The Green Games
by Frostfoot-Dreamleaf
Summary: Harry was 13, and the rebellion had to come before its time. When he failed, Voldemort had the children fight to the death. Now, it's a sick game for the Purebloods who sacrifice students each year to see who will win and keep their magic past the age of maturity. The others will perish. Only one can win, yet Hermione is going to try to save them all. Even the Slytherins.
1. Chapter 1

**Sooooo my jerkface brother got on my ff account, and saying it was stupid and silly for me to write fanfiction, deleted some stories. The Green Games was one of them :( That's why I'm re-posting it, along with a couple others. GAAAH BROTHERS! **

**So this is Harry Potter with a mix of The Hunger Games (just the games idea- not enough for me to consider it a crossover.) **

**Read and Review :) **

* * *

On the day of the choosing, Hermione was curled up, legs to her knees, in the library. She was reading about plants today, plants that may just save someone from life or death. She did this every year for the past four years, without fail. Well, not necessarily the same topic, but she retreated to the library and lost her where no one would disturb her.

Looking out the windows of Hogwarts, she wished it gave the same feeling of comfort it once had. But now all the trees seemed brittle, all the grass seemed less green, and the water didn't shimmer in the sunlight. The glass was dirty from a lack of cleaning, and the whole of her body felt as if she was about to barf. For the fourth year, she felt ready to give up magic completely.

If she ran into the muggle world, with her parents, they couldn't hurt her. She could hide. She could snap her wand. She could be safe. If she left now they'd never know. Run to the forest, and apparate and be gone before they could catch her.

It was too soon when the bells rang in the school, too soon for those death kneels to announce the death of so many students, people she knew. People she loved.

The whole area was silent, just the sound of padding feet echoed in the halls, with the occasional crying of a younger child. The first years were lucky, though, and shouldn't worry like Hermione did. As a seventh year, she was one step of being closer to getting out, but so much more likely to get in.

She saw Ron across the courtyard, the first time since Friday and they shared nervous looks. His hands were wringing incessantly, like he was trying to wash the skin away. But he smiled at her, his very Ron-like smile, and Hermione was nearly tempted to run over to him. The punishment if she did, though, which she was reminded of by the black-hooded people, would be severe.

The Death Eaters sat stone-like around the courtyard, and Hermione glared at each as she passed. A hand slipped into hers. She saw Ginny at her right, who was biting her lip. She squeezed Ginny's hand, but the expression on the girl didn't falter.

"Maybe, maybe it will be me today." She whispered, like she had every year. Hermione knew this was a two-way situation. Half of Ginny wanted to be picked-Hermione knew she'd win, or get pretty damn close, but the other half wanted to get as far away as she could. Hermione felt wholly of the latter.

"Maybe this year, it will be any of us." Hermione reminded, "Even me."

"Mudblood wouldn't last a day." Someone sneered from behind her. Blaise laughed, as did Crabbe and Goyle. The Slytherins came to this as a joke, very few found fear in this day or the event to follow. She wanted to wring their necks. But it was true; people like her never lasted long. Her heart clenched painfully.

"Shut up, Zabini! How'd you like your name picked." Ginny spun on her heels, her hands flying to where her wand was. Hermione grabbed her arm, and forced her friend away. If she even shows her wand to them, even casually, she'd be up there killed without any time to defend herself. Zabini threw a smile over at her, because he knew this. And even her words were weak; Slytherins weren't picked. Slytherins were never in.

She wondered where Malfoy was, and saw him sitting by his father, on the stage. He was probably practicing for his new job, she thought bitterly.

Hermione was ushered into a line where a masked man waved a wand over her hand, drew some blood, and her body hummed. It was the pact; the no getting out way to keep the tributes before anything rash could happen.

It hurt like a second-degree burn each year.

Then she stood at the bottom of the podium, hanging back near Ginny and Luna who had appeared to her other side. The three gazed up at the number of orbs on the stage. 24. How would it be happening this year?

The whole of students fell quiet. She looked around, and saw faces she knew and knew that may be dead at the end of the summer. Teach the kids Voldemort's brainwash crap for a year, then kill off some of the students in these idiotic 'games' at the end of each. Remind people that even when school is out, in the summer, he's still there. His power is always there.

There was a clacking of heels and a flash of gaudy pink. Umbridge waltzed to the stage, giggling and nodding to the officials that sat with the Malfoys in the front. The microphone was on, and she tapped it twice.

"Hello? Hello?" Her voice reverberated around the courtyard, "Well, welcome to the fourth annual Green Games!"

They way she said it, it sounded like spring and beauty and nature. But Hermione knew that green was not all so. She knew the name was because of the horrible green one saw right before they died from the Avada. She knew it was because of the color of Nagini, who sat before Voldemort and all his other snakes that so loved the color of his house. She knew it was because of the poison that turned green and made the drinker lose their mind. She knew it was green like the weeds in the garden, like each tribute, that was plucked from the crowds and killed in the most horrible way possible.

Green was not the color of life anymore; it was the color of death.

Umbridge began the history of the Green Games, and Hermione's heart twisted painfully.

It had been her third year, and Voldemort had returned. There had been a group of older children from Hogwarts that had formed a rebellion from getting information from the Order. Harry, thirteen-year-old Harry hadn't known better. He'd just wanted to be a hero, to help, to save lives. The plan failed. Voldemort rose to power that year, and twelve kids from fourth-year to seventh-year were brought out in front of the parents, students, teachers and everyone else at Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley cried to see Charlie- who had graduated, but was the eldest and the one who spearheaded the attack, and Percy.

He should have killed them right there. Executed them. But his lip curled, and his smile was deadly as he said he had decided on a better punishment. A fight to the death between the children. Whoever won would gain his favor and be spared and kept safe for the rest of their life. Every student had to watch. Every family mourned.

At first, there was no fighting. But something snapped in one of the minds of a Ravenclaw. That was all that was needed, along with a couple disasters or horrors, for the bloodbath to begin. Harry, the youngest, hadn't won. Oliver Wood did.

The next year, they hadn't expected the same, but Voldemort said they need to be reminded of it. They had to pay for the rebellion with more children. And it evolved to be the Green Games.

Voldemort, by the second time, had united Beaubaxtons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts into one school. He sorted the students of the first two into houses, and therefore many of the faces Hermione saw were children she did not know. There was never a set number of how or who would be chosen, just that she knew that being a female, Gryffindor, and a Muggle born put her in hot water every year.

She was sickened by it. Now, now Purebloods loved the sport. They treated it like it was only a game, only good fun. They took bets on who would win, gave money to those they liked, and made a spectacle of it. It was only people like the Weasleys and the Longbottoms that saw the games for what they were and refused to take part of it. Because of that, she thought, it seemed the games were slowly killing off each Weasley until there would be none less. Fred was lucky enough to be a Victor the second year, and Bill was safe because he was far too old. Percy, Charlie, and George were gone though. It was only time, probably this year, where either Ron or Ginny- maybe even both- were chosen. Being a seventh year, her name was in there seven times. And she didn't have to do the math; there were only a handful of female Gryffindors to choose from.

"This year, Voldemort has chosen to change the games." Big surprise, Hermione thought. The second year, they picked from a bowl of children. The third year, they took away wands. It was only expected that he would change another part this year.

"Voldemort would like to remind us that none of us are safe; that at any corner could be betrayal. That only he can be the one to keep us safe, not even those closet to him. This year, Slytherins will be added to the games as well."

Bedlam. That's all Hermione could think. Utter chaos. She looked around; some were yelling, some were fighting to the front. She swung her gaze up. Malfoy looked petrified.

Once the crowd had quieted, Umbridge continued. "We will have 24 tributes. Twelve girls and twelve boys. A muggle born, pure-blood, and half-blood from each house."

This hadn't changed her chances, but she was pleased to see the terror rising on the faces of many Slytherins. Blaise looked ready to puke, and Lucius had disappeared in a flutter of his robes, presumably to go and talk to Voldemort- who didn't dare make an appearance here today.

"Shall we begin?" Umbridge giggled, and beneath each bowl lit up a line of figures. Under the first was _BHP. _Boy-Hufflepuff-Pure.

Her fingers floated around the bowl, fishing for a ticket, like the best would magically pop into her hands. Hermione would have been surprised, of course, had it been magically altered.

Umbridge returned to the Microphone, broke the seal, and opened her lips. "Ernie McMillian." Hermione gulped. Ernie was a good guy. Strong hands, worked on a farm, moderately smart. He was handsome though, and a couple girls in the crowd began to cry. Good guys like him shouldn't have to die.

The choosing continued.

Two former Durmstrang boys- the Pure-blood and Muggle Born- were chosen for Ravenclaw. Ron was picked for the Gryffindor pureblood, nothing much that she hadn't expected. It still hurt, but those numbers were dwindling too. Ron's whole face was pale and dead as he was escorted to stage, a permeate look of horror slapped on his expression. Ginny's hand tensed, and her lips trembled.

Seamus was chosen too, along with Colin Creevy. Better him than his brother Dennis. While it was unusual for smaller children to be chosen, it happened, and they died quickly into the games. Once, two years ago, someone volunteered for a third year who began to cry on stage. Other than that, no one else had ever offered to be part of these games.

Next was the Slytherins. Her hands went to the Muggle born ones first. It was a kid from Durmstrange she didn't know. He looked stringy, though. He would hardly last a day, she reckoned. But perhaps there was cunning she couldn't see. He was in Slytherin after all.

Blaise was picked for the half-bloods. She hadn't known he was one, and the shame on his face and surprise on the crowd told her no one else had either.

Umbridge's fingers twirled around the Pure-bloods. She looked around. Crabbe and Goyle looked ready to kill. Their massive hands would easily crush skulls if they were picked. They were sadistic and devoid of any humanity anymore- they were monsters. If they were picked, it would be the bloodiest games yet.

Umbridge plucked a paper, and opened it with her fat fingers. Something in her eyes gleamed.

"Draco Malfoy!"

Lucius, who was just returning, froze on the steps to the podium. Draco was pale as a ghost, and he looked fearful. For once, he didn't look like a man; he looked like a child. Someone, a Death Eater pushed him forward. Lucius was now enraged, and had pulled Umbridge aside.

"I pulled his name, Malfoy." She was saying, because Hermione was near the front and could read her lips, "If no over offers, then he is in the games." Hermione's head whipped around to Crabbe and Goyle. They didn't move. No one did. Draco was shoved in front of his bowl, next to Blaise, all fancy in his suit. He looked out of place.

Next came the females. Hufflepuffs. Hermione knew these more intimately than the boys picked. It seemed that it was rigged for the seventh years, and her felt something inside of her die in the way they would at each name.

Luna was chosen for the pureblood Ravenclaw. Ginny wouldn't let her hand go, and Hermione had to pry it away. Ginny had turned to one of her classmates, a Pureblood Ravenclaw and began to cry and ask why she wasn't volunteering. Luna was part of the flame that was undetected at Hogwarts. It was something that all those loyal to Harry had been with; secretly rebelling in every way they could since his death. To show that they would still win. Luna was one of the best she was fearless. She was too good to die.

The youngest was chosen for the Muggle-born Ravenclaw. Elizabeth Archibald was chosen at the age of 13. She was a run for Hermione's money in the brains department, and Hermione felt a tug at her heart when she walked past, head held high and kissed her twin brother good-bye on the cheek.

Slytherins next, perhaps so she could move the choosing along if there was another scene. She hadn't known Pansy was half-blooded, like Blaise had been. She snapped at people who made comments, and had to be restrained by a Death Eater when her hands went to someone's neck.

"Oh, plenty of time for that in the games!" Umbridge tutted with a laugh.

The Gryffindors. Lavender for the pureblood. She looked terrified, Hermione thought. She twirled her hair and held back sobs, checking her make-up to be sure it hadn't run all the way up to the stands.

A girl who had attended Hogwarts for a year, then transferred to Beaubaxtons, then ended right back up in Hogwarts took the stage for the half-bloods.

Lastly came the Muggle-born. Umbridge waited a painfully long time to choose, because everyone was itching to know the last name chosen. She curled her fingers around a paper.

"Not Hermione, please no." Ginny whispered, squeezing Hermione's hand tight. Hermione silently prayed with her.

"Our last tribute will be…Artemis Lapun!"

"Yes!" Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, but Hermione moaned in horror.

"No…"

For a second, there wasn't any movement. Then the crowd near the back parted, and a first year was avoided like a disease. She tried to back up, but was pushed forward by her classmates. Her black hair shook as she started to hyperventilate, and tears ran down her flushed cheeks. Death Eaters began to move forward to grab her, and Hermione searched the crowd widly. She had two older sisters. Her heart clenched with anger when she found the third year, Scarlett Lapun, who just looked at her sister with sorrowful eyes. Okay, she was thirteen. Thirteen year olds shouldn't die either. She searched madly for the seventh year, who had previously gone to Beaubaxtons, Blair Lapun. The eldest Lapun made her enraged. Blair was talking to a fellow Ravenclaw, with a look that said 'she'll be dead soon.'

Neither offered themselves up. Neither sister moved.

It seemed Ginny knew what was happening before Hermione did. She grabbed Hermione's arm.

"No! Hermione, just five more seconds, and you never have to worry about being picked again! This is suicide! Please, Hermione. Not you too!" Hermione had shrugged her off though, and broke the crowd as Artemis passed by, half-dragged by the Death Eaters. Everyone looked at her.

"I'll take her place. I'll take her place. I offer to." Hermione spoke before she knew what she was saying. It all happened so fast. Artemis cried and ran, hugging her and burying her face in Hermione's skirts. People began to whisper. Artemis was yanked away and Hermione was pushed toward the stage.

"Well this is exciting!" Umbridge fluffed her hair, "Hermione Granger, is it?"

"Yes." Hermione said, swallowing bile. Umbridge had busted her a couple times in the school. There was a look of triumph in the woman's eyes.

"And we have our last student." She announced, and Hermione finally looked around.

Oh my god. She'd have to kill them. Her friends, her dearest friends. She'd have to kill them or watch them be killed in front of her. Merlin, how did this happen?

Ron looked at her, and there were a thousand unsaid words in his eyes. Hermione didn't hear the clapping as she closed her eyes and tried not to start crying. When she opened, and looked around, she saw everyone's cheeks were stained with slip-away tears too.


	2. Chapter 2

**So…I read the hunger Games books and all and I was a fan. Not a huge, fan, but I liked 'em. Then…the movies came out. And then I read the Black Games, which is a Zutara of the same basic idea, so if you like ATLA go check that one out. Anyway this was born. Sure it's been done a couple times, but eh, whatever.**

**Anywho, the last week I've been obsessed over HG fanfiction. I'm a Catoniss fan, if anyone in the crowd is with there with me.**

**There will be character death. And some violence. I can't promise it will be Dramione all the way through though, because I'm not sure where the plot bunnies will take me. Right now it is, but hey- by the end maybe it will be HermionexSeamus, or HermionexFred, but I am pretty positive it will be Hermione/Draco. I dunno, we'll see what the characters are like. Hope you enjoy the second chapter.**

**And it's short, I know. Chapters will get longer, much longer. But i suppose this is just building...sorta. Anyway the tribute list is at the bottom, if anyone was curious. Along with the Victors.**

The group was promptly ushered off the stage. Hermione fell numbly in step between Ron and Luna.

"That was so brave." Luna whispered in her ear, but Hermione brushed her away.

"You'll have time to say good-bye to friends now," Umbridge said, "Each of you in a room, a couple minuets then off to the trains to go back to London! Your things are being collected from your rooms as we speak." She pushed Hermione into the first open room. The door was shut behind her. It was the old divination room- she bit back a cry as she remembered storming out when she was thirteen. Back before Voldemort had rose. When everything was…normal. The room looked the same as she recalled. It hadn't been touched in years though, so there was a fine film of dust over all the soft cushions. She sat on the least dusty, and a puff of smoke rose when she sat.

She watched the door. Who would come to say good-bye?

Ginny burst through first, and half-strangled Hermione with a hug.

"How dare you, how dare you?" Ginny asked into her hair.

"Gin…" Hermione sighed. Ginny pulled back.

"Hermione, this is suicide." She said hollowly.

"I had to." Hermione became defensive, "Would you have sent a child who turned 11 only a couple months ago to die?" She asked harshly.

"No. But she had sisters." Ginny's eyes flared.

"You didn't look at them, did you? They weren't going to say anything. I knew it, I knew it. I had to say something. If you had seen their faces, you'd understand."

Ginny looked unsure. "Hermione, the games aren't the only place we have to survive in. We have to survive the pickings too, I only have a year left. Things have changed since we were young. It's a tragedy for a 11-year old to die, sure. But is this worth it? Is your life worth hers?" She asked.

"Ginny, don't say that. I wouldn't be able to watch her be killed." Hermione reasoned, "I'm smart…I can…I can survive this."

"You're not a killer though." Ginny took her hands gently, "These hands are for gripping book spines, not necks."

"None of us are killers." Hermione argued, "Not even the Slytherins."

"I'd beg to differ. Pansy's nasty- she'd sooner kill someone than let them even be a tiny bit above her. Guess she has to now, has to protect her integrity now that we know she's a half-blood and all."

"She won't go down easily." Hermione sighed in agreement. Ginny stared hard at Hermione.

"You've just accepted this, haven't you?" She murmured.

"What else can I do?" The question hung in the air.

"Fight." Ginny's voice rumbled, "Fight for me, and Harry. Goddamn, don't be one of their puppets. Don't let me loose everyone in these sick games. Not you, not Ron, not Luna…" her voice hitched, "You're all leaving me." She sounded child-like, a first year again, "And I'll be forced to watch you kill each other."

"If I win, then you'll have me again. Ron could win, or Luna. Both are good fighters. Then you wouldn't be loosing them."

"No, I'm loosing all of you now. This is the last time I see my Hermione Granger. If you win, you'll be the game's. They will change you. You won't be yourself, you'll be whatever depraved state is left. I know—I see Fred every Friday, but it's not Fred, not my Fred, anymore."

The door opened as Hermione fished for words.

"Time's up." The guard said, and stepped forward to grab Ginny. She gave Hermione one last hug, so tight it hurt. Those were the best hugs from Ginny, though. It meant she cared.

"Win, Hermione. Don't kill anyone. You're better than this." She whispered, and Hermione sighed.

"I can't promise anything."

She was left alone again, and something chilled inside of her. It was a couple minutes when the next person appeared. Neville.

"Hermione!" He said, "Hermione, you're too good for your own good." He chuckled, but it was forced.

"Neville, I don't know what I was doing." She admitted.

"You were doing the right thing. Voldemort's sick, and to force 11-year olds to fight with bare hands is sadistic. No one wants to watch that." He assured, "I've already made most of my friend rounds. I feel like I was left out of this party," He attempted a feeble joke.

"For the better, though. You're free of the choosing." Something lifted from his face, like he hadn't yet realized it, and he broke into a smile.

"I'm going to help all of you. I'm a pureblood, and my grandma will support my friends. You won't have to worry when you need something, I'll be there for you."

Hermione laughed. "I'm sure you will. But…can you watch over someone here too? Well, two people." She paused.

"Of course. I just told you I'll do whatever I can." He punched her lightly.

"Keep Ginny sane. She's loosing almost all her friends too. And, maybe a brother."

Neville sighed. "I figured as much. She looked ready to collapse out there after you all were pushed from the stage. She's not taking it well."

"I wouldn't' either." Hermione scoffed, "Also…look over Artemis. I just…don't let my volunteer go to waste." She said. There was unspoken words to it, and Neville understood.

"She will be safe." He clasp her hand, like it was the start of an unbreakable Vow. Hermione knew him to be good on his word, so perhaps, in a way, it was.

"Summer will be hell without any of you." Neville sighed, "You know that, right?"

"My summer will be just as bad. Who knows how long it will last. Last year lasted almost three weeks, right?" Neville mulled, finally nodding in agreement.

"The first one lasted the longest. I doubt you'll all beat the two-and a half months. Everyone there was mostly killed off by the game makers, not each other." He agreed.

"Until Cho went crazy and killed everyone." Neville's face darkened.

"They say it changes people." He said solemnly.

"No. Not me. It won't change me. I'm…I stronger than that." She said firmly, repeating what Ginny had whispered not only a couple moments ago.

"If anyone can stay sane, it's you."

"I wish I knew what you did, Neville." Hermione sighed, "Plants could save me in there. I've been reading, I mean, but I never thought I'd be picked."

"C'mon Hermione." Neville nudged her, "If you've been reading you're ready. More than anyone else out there. I heart Blaise is fancy with some weapons, but put a berry in front of him, and he won't tell if it's poison or not."

The door opened, and Hermione felt it was much too soon to let him go. Neville had always been so faithful, so brave. His face fell, and he hugged her. He'd grown and now, she dug her face into his chest and he rests his chin on her busy hair. She didn't want to leave him.

"I will help you win. I promise." He said. Hermione gave a half-smile.

"I'm sure you said that to everyone else. Only one can win." She sniffled, and Neville put his hands up in a 'you caught me' sort of way. Yet, he still smiled.

"I did make a promise, didn't I? But shhh-don't tell the others."

Hermione knew her time was running thin, and couldn't image who else would be in to see her. She accepted this, and sat back down, and her head began to swirl. With knowledge. With fears, dreams, and hopes. She wondered what Ron was doing in the next room over, who was saying good-bye to him. She wondered when she'd have to say good-bye.

The door creaked open, and Hermione startled.

Artemis entered with her sisters. Artemis went right for another hug, but her sisters hung back. Hermione glared at them.

"We wanted to thank you, for saving her." Scarlett began. Hermione bit her tongue so not to say anything that would hurt Artemis, but the words slipped out anyway.

"Clearly, because neither of you were going to." She bit out.

The sisters gave hesitant looks at each other. "Artemis is stronger than you think-," Blair tried to argue softly.

"An 11-year-old is more likely to win than a seventh year, then?" Hermione questioned swiftly, crouching down next to Artemis, rubbing the girl's back.

"If you had just waited, maybe I would have offered!" Scarlett snapped.

"So it's my fault?" Hermione's voice was even, and she glared harder.

"Look." Blair stepped in, "What happened…happened. C'est la vie, right? It's undone. We just wanted to thank so, so I guess that's it." She began leaving to avoid the confrontation that was swimming in Hermione's eyes, "C'mon Arty."

"I'll be right there. Can I get a moment alone?" She asked. Scarlett and Blair exchanged looks.

"Fine." Scarlett said and the two left in a haste. Hermione was at eye-level with the girl.

"Thank you. Thank you, so much." Artemis repeated for the umpteenth time.

"I couldn't let you go out there." Hermione said with a soft sigh. She tugged on a little braid in Artemis' hair.

"My sisters wouldn't have volunteered. I know that. They're not…good. They may be in Gryffindor, but I think they belong in Slytherin." Artemis said sourly.

"No, that's a fate I wouldn't wish on anyone." Hermione chuckled.

"My uncle, he's a pureblood in London. He watches the games. He can help. After this, he will because I'm his favorite." Artemis said in one big rush, and caught Hermione's confused gaze, "My dad is a squib. He's counted as a muggle, and met my mum. That's why technically, I'm a muggle-born. But the magic was there. Always."

She traced Hermione's hand, "The magic is there." She repeated, words that sounded sage for her age, and Hermione bit back a question, but settled for a nod.

"You have to win." Artemis said, "After this, you can't die."

"I don't want to."

"No one wants to die. I'm not safe, I know. Next year, I might be picked. But next year, or the year after, or the year after, I'll be ready. I'm going to train and learn everything I can so that when I'm picked, I will be ready like you are." She put so much faith in her voice, "Otherwise you wouldn't have volunteered." Hermione didn't want to tell her otherwise.

The door opened, and Artemis was gone. Hermione was sure now there would be no one, because a guard came in, motioning for her to follow. She was met with a stream of the other students, who all were a bit more nervous looking. Ron and Seamus walked in deep conversation, and when he glanced up, his eyes flickered with a fire she'd never seen before.

They were planning something.

She fell into step with Ernie, who greeted her with a small smile and a half-brightened look.

The train waited for them, and steam was puffing from the sprout already. It was just like going home after the year's end, because it was the right time, but it wasn't. It wouldn't be taking them to 9 and ¾, it would be taking them into the mouth of hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ooops! In the new re-posting there wasn't the list of the tributes and winners. That is for sure at the bottom of this one! **

* * *

"A box for each house and gender." Umbridge said, gleefully, "Gryffindor boys, the first one, please." She ushered the three away. Hermione craned her neck to see Ron and Seamus vanish, and neither gave her a single look.

Lavender and Fay hesitated with Hermione when they stepped into their boxcars.

"Well, if you excuse me." Lavender said promptly, wringing her hair still, and backtracked into a compartment. Fay looked at Hermione, almost pleading, but Hermione backed up into an empty seat section as well. It looked nice and clean, and there seemed to be all new lining on the trains. She hadn't been on them since she was young.

She sat, and was almost knocked off her feet when the train jolted forward with no forewarning. She sat there, immobilized for a moment, before she breathed deeply.

"It's all strategy." She whispered to herself.

To win the games, it was about 10% skill, 1% savagery, and 89% of having a plan. There was some parchment in her robes, which she always kept on her for moments of 'aha', with a muggle pen, much easier than carrying around a quill and ink pack.

She made two columns: People I Should Worry About, People I Don't Have to Worry About.

She began to go through the list mentally.

Ernie was one to worry about. He had brute strength and was good at nature-type things, like survival, which Hermione had never been too keen on learning in the first place.

Corner was one to not worry about. He was only good when he had a wand in his hand, which he clearly would not.

When she came to Justin, she realized she had to make another list- People I'm Not Sure About. Justin had grown up with Muggles, like Hermione, so he knew how to live outside of magic. That didn't mean he was skilled in combat or survival techniques, though. She'd have to watch him before the games.

She added Caligula to the unknown list too. He was just to young for her to have interacted with thus so far.

Wayne was placed with Corner. He was the epitome of Hufflepuff, and dimwitted, naive, and scrawny to the core. He couldn't last long.

Duke, from reputation, knew how to use a bow and arrow. He also hunted game with his family, as she'd overheard him talking about to Susan Bones. This could make him a worthy combatant.

All three of the Gryffindor boys made the 'worry about' list. Ron was a quidditch player, and had done his time with a beater's bat when he had to fill in once. He also was a good strategist from his years of chess, and he would be scrutinizing most everyone.

Seamus was an enigma that she knew could be deadly. Like Ernie, he grew up in a farm like setting, so his muscles were lean from years of hoisting heavy materials over his shoulders.

Collin, although young, held animosity that had darkened him after the death of his parents. The death, they all knew but no one said, hadn't been accidental.

Draco was put on the unknown list. She knew that some pureblooded parents taught their children combat skills other than magic, but to what extend, she didn't know. And Draco didn't seem like the type, she mused, to dirty his silken robes. That made her chuckle; how would the king fare without soft bed sheets and clean water?

Blaise was for sure on the dangerous list. His hands looked as though it could crush a skull the density of a rock. He had just a hard look about him, too, the way his lips sneered.

Pike, who was much like Wayne except a little more unknown, was put on the 'not worry' list. Even though he was a Slytherin, Hermione could see little redeeming.

The girls were more difficult.

Hannah was a nimble girl with feet that danced across the floor. Her hair was always in braids, and her hands were not such of a murderer. Yet, there was something pointed in her look, and there had been such a look of acceptance when she'd been picked, veiling fury, that Hermione had to wonder about what went on underneath the skull cap. She may be a force to recon with.

Susan was inconsolable. Her aunt had already attempted to get her off the list, no doubt, and Susan expected that she would. She could only imagine how the girls' hands would shake if given a weapon. She wasn't a concern.

Leanne was an unknown. Hermione only had ever seen her with girls older than herself, and therefore their circles never much mixed.

Luna was another unknown. She knew her friend was formidable, yet once again only with a wand. She prayed desperately that this ranking wasn't just because she was her friend, but she was really quite worried. Luna had some…interesting ideas about the natural world. Would her insistence on imaginary things cost her a life?

Mandy was ever curvy, in the way mothers are, and ever sarcastic. She was plagued with not only an unfortunate last name but also an unfortunate distaste for anything physical. Hermione knew she would be gone soon.

Elizabeth was so young, and Hermione sighed. The girl looked like a porcelain doll. She wished there was a better way, but hell, there wasn't. And it wasn't for her to protect her, when her own life was ever so cautiously balancing on the line. Hadn't her sacrifice for Artemis been enough? Hermione fingers betrayed her feelings when she placed Elizabeth on the 'unknown' column, as if that made her thoughts any better.

Lavender could have been trained. Her family was one of those old Purebloods, so she couldn't have been surprised. Yet the girl seemed to only previously care about fashion and nail polish. She didn't seen like the type to pick up a knife and plunge it into flesh, and seemed traumatized as it was. She wasn't going to worry about her former dorm-mate. She felt no loyalty to her whatsoever.

Fay was too newly transferee from Beaubaxtons. Even when she had attended Hogwarts, Hermione didn't care to know her. Unknown.

There was something calculating about Daphne. She was venomous, that was for sure. She even reminded Hermione of a snake, but with a little bit of veela and a little bit of Paris. She suspected there was already a little dagger in those long boots of hers.

With no hesitation, she wrote Pansy down in all caps. This girl may be her greatest enemy. Something had snapped in that girl's mind, she decided. There was a blazed look of a killer.

She was still caught up in the ghastly idea of Pansy Parkinson, so Tracey seemed even smaller in comparison and was just as easily placed in the not to worries. The girl just never seemed to be anything extraordinary. In more civil times, perhaps Tracey would have graduated near the bottom, but still in the middle. She would have gotten a desk job, found a nice enough husband that probably had a mistress on the side, and been a stay at home mother when the time came with a kid or two. But hey, times change.

She was aghast. The worry list was much longer than any others. She wondered if, every contestant made a list, she'd be on their worry lists. She hoped so. She wasn't going down easily.

She stared hard, biting her lip. She decided to circle those she would make an alliance with. Only from the 'Worry about' list, of course. Why bet on a kid you know you don't have to worry about getting killed by, because they aren't skilled enough? The best would be needed to get to the top.

Of course, if it came down to only two, it would be harder to win. Yet, she wanted only the best for her teammates.

Ernie was nice enough. She circled him.

Ron, well, she hoped. Even though he was one of her best friends, she was doubtful. She knew how he worshiped his brother Fred, who had won.

"Don't make a team. Go by yourself. That's how I won. If you rely on others, then you let your guard down." He'd said one night to the both of them, in talks of the games. Ron had nodded, but she never guessed he'd have to use it. Would he recall his brother's advice? Hermione didn't agree, but if Ron remembered, she doubted she'd have a chance to convince him otherwise. Still, he'd be good to have around.

She decided to circle Seamus too. Mostly because the way that he and Ron had been talking before, like planning. If they had a plan together, Hermione wanted in, and she wasn't going to boot him out.

She had liked Hannah before all of this, and she was also a girl, so she circled her as her final ally choice. She really hoped her instincts about worrying about her would be correct, especially if she agreed to Hermione's offer.

She set away the parchment, nervous. She decided to try for a nap. She'd been worrying about the choosing, so the night previous hadn't been the best of sleeps. And honesty, she wasn't sure when she was going to sleep so casually again.

The train moved like a mother rocking a child, and with her robes pulled about her as a blanket amidst the worry and sleep came within moments.

She woke to several raps on the door. She wondered first if it was Ron or Luna, to talk. She hoped so. She would much enjoy some chatter with Luna, and if it were Ron, she really wanted to discuss the list that lay on the floor.

Then she wondered if they were even allowed to move about the cars, so her curiosity sprung her to her feet. But it was neither at the door.

"Anything from the trolley, dear?"

The sweet old lady, who had served food at the trolley since she would remember, stood before Hermione with a matronly smile and a tray full of food. She looked at the Honeydukes candy, the sandwiches, and the news, and her fingers fished for change.

"No." She sighed, and the woman frowned.

"No?"

"I didn't expect to buy anything." Hermione admitted. The woman gave a laugh.

"Dear, everything is free." She said. Hermione's brow knit.

"F..Free?"

"Yes. Your friend, the red-headed one, nearly took my whole cart when I told him." There was kindness in her voice. She imagined Ron, and smiled.

"Yes, he would."

"So anything?"

Hermione decided to indulge in a moment of childhood, and while she took a healthy sandwich, the majority of her spoils were candy and soda pop. She hesitated at the door, though.

"Why is it free?" She whispered, afraid.

"Well, it's because…you…" The woman floundered for words, and Hermione reckoned she was the first to question. The woman didn't have to finish. Hermione knew the words she didn't say.

It's because she was being sent off to die.

"I understand." Hermione bowed her head, "And I'm grateful for this."

"I wouldn't let them discourage me from pushing the cart if they ordered me too." She said, "It's the least I can do."

Hermione let her door close, and pondered the event as she unwrapped a cauldron cake.

She wondered if anyone else would be so generous at his or her demise. Perhaps.

She needed to go to the bathroom, and slid the door open a little later. Lavender was already in the hall, fighting with Wayne Hopkins. Hermione wasn't interested in their problems, and she rolled her eyes. Clearly, Ron could have visited her, but hadn't. Git.

She felt like it was her first time on a train, the way her legs jiggled as she tried to trudge to the restrooms. She passed a slightly ajar door and saw Ron inside. He and Seamus were once again in deep conversation, along with Luna. She felt a little hurt she hadn't been invited to this party. Seamus snapped up, as if he recognized her footsteps, and got up.

"its just Hermione!" Luna said in protest, but the door was closed in her face. Hermione bit back disappointment and the urge to throw the door open, and went to the bathroom.

So much for friends. Fine; if she had to go alone in this, she would. Or, maybe she should go and find Ernie and Hannah?

She didn't though. She sat in the loo, and put her fingers deep into her unruly hair. Everyone was truly alone in these games, no matter how much she liked to believe otherwise.

* * *

**_DD is durmstrang, B is Beaubaxtons. _**

**_BOYS_**

**_Hufflepuff-_**

_Pureblood _Ernie McMillian

_Halfblood _Wayne Hopkins

_Muggleborn _Justin FF

**_Ravenclaw_**

_Pureblood _Caligula Darcy (D)

_Halfblood _Michael Corner

_Muggleborn _Duke Oakley (D)

**_Gryffindor_**

_Pureblood _Ron Weasley

_Halfblood _Seamus Finnigan

_Muggleborn _Colin Creevy

**_Slytherin_**

_Pureblood Draco Malfoy_

_Halfblood _Blaise Zabini

_Muggleborn _Pike Webber (D)

**_Girls_**

**_Hufflepuff-_**

_Pureblood _Hannah Abbott

_Halfblood _Susan Bones

_Muggleborn _Leanne Hadley

**_Ravenclaw_**

_Pureblood _Luna Lovegood

_Halfblood _Mandy Brocklehurst

_Muggleborn _Elizabeth Archibald

**_Gryffindor_**

_Pureblood _Lavender Brown

_Halfblood _Fay Dunbar (BB)

_Muggleborn _Hermione Granger

**_Slytherin_**

_Pureblood _Daphne Greengrass

_Halfblood _Pansy Parkinson

_Muggleborn _Tracey Davis (BB)

Victor year One: Oliver Wood

Victor Year Two: Fred Weasley

Victor Year Three: Victor Krum

Year Four: Cedric Diggory and Marcus Flint


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione tried to reconcile what she'd been seeing. How she'd been shut out from the very secretive conversation of those she thought to be her closest friends. If Harry-

She suppressed a sigh. Harry had always been the most secretive of any of them. And besides, it was foolish to imagine what he'd be like now, when there were so many years in between his death and now. For all she knew, he could have been a totally different person.

These games were, in a sick way, in his honor. But what had he been thinking, joining that rebellion with such vigor? She had woken and found him gone after he'd promised he wouldn't go. She told Dumbledore right away, but oh, it was too late. She'd known it in her bones, from the way that they just seemed to fall out of place and she was collapsing on the floor of the common room.

It was 3am and no one comforted her then; not until the morning when she was still there, and Dumbledore came back with the gravest look on his face. She had known, she had known. She knew that he would be caught, but she had simply then wished for a simple death. Her wish left hanging in the air.

She hadn't watched when the told her to. She looked when the Death Eaters turned her way, but at all other times she averted her eyes to the floor praying to every god she had ever heard of. If no one participated, they couldn't do much than pick them off but what looked like forces of nature, could they? But if the did that too much, they'd loose public opinion. Hermione was sure it wasn't just 'something' that snapped in Cho's mind. She was near positive that it was the doings of spell casters, and she was the closest and easiest to hit. She would be known now, though, as such horrid nicknames like 'Cho the Bloody' or 'Chilling Cho' for the bloodshed. She would become a phantom that haunted children's beds. She would be described as having long black hair that moved without wind, her hands dripping eternally with blood, her lips rouged from organs of humans, and a big hole from a spear where her heart should have been. That's how she went; a Hufflepuff threw a spear through her back, but it was an impeccable shot.

If they had known the Cho Hermione knew at school, those bedtimes scares would seen like the worst insult one could lay. Cho was ever smart, ever beautiful, and ever kind. It wasn't right that she was the result of trauma, lack of sleep, and some sort of stunner to the brain. If there wasn't any action, would that be her, Hermione pondered?

Of course there would be. There had been little problem with moving fourth the remainder of the games. Once they realized that if they didn't fight for their lives, it would be their lives. Secretly, everyone just wanted to live. They didn't want the fame or the money that came after, or the life of security from evils, they just wanted to see the next bloody sunrise. Friends turned to killers, and those she had thought to be upright people did what they did to survive. She always tried to avoid watching.

She opened the loo door, and stepped outside. People were beginning to mingle about the cabins, but, not surprisingly, there were not Slytherins to be found. It was better that way. Justin was the first person she saw, and she tapped his shoulder.

"How long until we arrive?" She asked. Justin turned with a jump, eyeing her warily. There was a change happening already; like he believed her to pull out a knife and kill him there.

"Two or so hours." He said, never blinking. She rolled her eyes.

"Thanks Justin," She said with a hard edge, if as to remind him the games hadn't started yet. Besides, she had no intention to kill him. She had no intention to kill anyone. So far, no female had won the games, but there was a general lack of them as it was. She reckoned if she lay low and waited for everyone to kill themselves while Hermione sat safe under the ground or in a tree, she should have enough sanity to just kill one or two when the time came. If she killed anymore, she wouldn't leave as Hermione.

"Everyone! Dinner in the farthest hall. Please report at once!" Umbridge's voice sang through the train, and she heard moans.

"What happens if we don't go?" Lavender asked angrily, stepping out of her compartment. No one answered, but Hermione thought she knew the reply, if one had.

"It's just food. There wouldn't be a game if they poisoned us all before it even started." Hermione reasoned. Ron had slammed the door open.

"You so sure? What if I'm not hungry?" He said with a sniffle.

"Ronald Weasley, not hungry. Yeah, that will be the day." Ernie scoffed, and Ron began to blush. His stomach betrayed his façade.

The overhead boomed again, "Your presence is firmly required." It was as if she could hear them, and Ron sighed, and the conversation was finished about if he had to go or not. Luna was beckoned from the area, and Seamus followed soon behind. Hermione darted back into her room, because she didn't want to be stuck near her 'friends', but realized she really had no reason to go back to her compartment, so waddled around like a fool with hopes no one saw.

She realized too late that she had not thought it through; she was the last one into the food area. Everyone was already sitting, or in the process, meaning there were no seats left sans one. It could have been worse, she reckoned. She could have been by Pansy, but Pansy cornered herself at the edge of the table with her only companion to be Blaise. No; Hermione found herself in between Seamus Finnigan and Daphne Greengrass.

The meal was delicious, even without a taste. Hermione's mouth watered at the delicate chocolate things, the steaming potatoes, and the savory looking meats. But no one touched the food yet; everyone was eyeing it and each other with looks of uncertainty.

"Well, it's not like it's bloody poisoned!" Seamus announced, and was the first to reach forward for the chicken legs, "Want some, Hermione?"

Oh, now he was speaking to her? She maintained ice in her voice as she replied. "Yes." There was a look of surprise, probably faux, across his face at her tone, but she saw him bit his lip to keep from responding all the same.

He was the catalyst, and next Justin was grappling for the potatoes, Ron for the steak, and even Draco looked ravenous as he pushed up his suit to take some bread rolls and butter.

"This is the feast, isn't it?" Luna asked from the farthest possible seat from Pansy, which Hermione much envied. Even though there were four people in between her and the devilish girl, the Slytherin's sneers and looks were enough to make Hermione wish she had her wand. She knew a few hexes from Ginny that would make Pansy think twice before laughing at everything that was said.

"So do they really expect us to all sit here nicely without murdering someone?" Pike asked, a hard edge to his voice. He had hardly touched his food.

"Nonsense. This is just to make us feel special before the games. They aren't expecting fighting yet. Not where they can't enhance it and show it to everyone." There was a sneer beneath his haughty reply, which was right, as Fred had no doubt described the whole affair to his brother long before now.

"Voldemort wouldn't want us fighting, not yet." Draco agreed, his usual voice lost. It sounded small. He shook his head, looking up, and catching Hermione's eye before he moved on, "Just enjoy it now. Merlin knows when we'll have such luxuries again."

"Must be hard for you, though." Wayne was shivering even as he dared say anything against Draco, but this had made everyone on the same level, "I mean, this is what a Malfoy must eat like everyday."

Draco didn't answer, although Hermione noted his jaw twitched with an unsaid reply. He proceeded to shove his food around a little, before he sighed, "Being a pureblood isn't the lap of luxury you think it is."

Before anyone could ask, Umbridge opened the sliding door and waltzed in, in whole new pink attire, and clapped her hands. "Well isn't this just lovely and so generous! I hope you're all finding this food to be so very much to your liking. You all deserve it." The glint in her eyes went unmissed by no one. There was no silence at her words, a firm resolve that no one speak to the dragon lady in kitten heels.

Well, except for Pansy.

"So, we get to the place tonight, right. The games begin tonight, right?" There was an anxious ring to her words, and one hand gripped the table and the other a harmless butter knife that now looked very deadly. The unmistakable excitement for a kill sat suspended over their heads. Umbridge looked horrified.

"Merlin no! Do you think we'd send you out like this? Underdressed, underfed, and untrained?"

Well, that's what they'd done with Harry, of course. Silly Hermione, she reminded with acerbic, that had been punishment. This was just a game.

"No, no! That's actually why I had you all meet here. I need to discuss the next few days for all of you, so there's no confusion." She shot Pansy a dark look.

"We'll be arriving to the area where you'll be living in about two hours. There you will each get a room, and go straight to bed. In the morning, the stylists will meet with you to make you the best you for all the appearances. Then, you will begin training hard for five days. At the end of those five days, there will be a live interview with Rita Skeeter. The next day, you'll be in the area!" She said it all with a flourish, in the way one talked excitedly about the tour of America they would be attending or the trip to the beach. It was most certainly neither.

Umbridge just held her happy smile for a little, but when no one spoke, a look like spilled milk crossed her face. "Well, enjoy." She said curtly, clearly irritated at the lack of enthusiasm.

"I have an idea," Pike grumbled, "Let's put her and all the others who love the games in it. Then they could really love it." He hissed.

"She wouldn't last a day. None would." Draco scoffed in reply.

"Exactly." Susan spoke up in agreement, "What ever happened to the children are the future campaign? There won't be children left!" She cried.

"This is ridiculous." Hermione got up abruptly, breathing hard under her breath. She wasn't in the mood to stick around, and her appetite was non existent.

"Are you leaving? Are you allowed to?" Duke asked with open jaws.

"I doubt it." Draco replied.

"No one asked you, Malfoy." Hermione retorted with anger.

"Technically, his question second question could have been directed at anyone." Draco's reply was smooth like silk, which made her blood broil.

"Sit down, lass. Enjoy the food while it's here." Seamus wound his fingers in hers in a friendly way, encouraging her to sit back down. Hermione glared at him.

"Now I'm your friend?" She asked, jerking her hand away from his, her words only for him to hear.

"What?" He asked, and Hermione felt everyone looking at her.

"If you leave, we may get in trouble." Hannah said, and there was a warning her in eyes, for Hermione's sake. Hermione bit her lip.

"Fine. I'll stay." She sat down again. Seamus still looked confused, and Hermione saw him trying to process her words. Let him wonder, then. If he didn't know, then he should be confused.

The remainder of the dinner, there was light and tense talk amongst the children, and Hermione would have liked to say the food was good, had she eaten more than a couple bites. She firmly refused to talk to Seamus, who was looking at her with a hurt sort of look on his face.

Finally, everyone began to leave when the meal was over, and the doors were opened. Hermione realized they must have been locked, so even if she had tried to leave, she would have been embarrassed. Hannah must have known, somehow. That girl was perceptive. Hermione was beginning to want to ally with her more and more.

It was not long before they reached their hotel rooms. They were shoved off the train and herded through a passage of underground ways that must have been extensions of the Ministry, until they came to a wide-open indoor hotel front.

"This is where you will be doing everything for the next week. Training is in the lowest floor, and we have a section just for all of you, so you don't disturb other guests and journalists aren't clawing for interviews and such. The rules are strict about going outside of our boundaries."

"There are many splendid rooms for all of you to be put into, and to be fair, you will pick from this bag." She was pulling a satchel from her over-sized purse, and Hermione wondered if she'd ever used an undetectable extension charm. No, Umbridge wasn't smart enough for that.

Umbridge just sort of buzzed around, shoving the bag of jingling keys in people's faces, seemingly arbitrary. Hermione was, though, the second to last one to pick, so maybe it wasn't quite so random. She pulled the key from the bag, as there was only two she deliberated for more than usual on which to pull, and saw a number 12 on the handle.

"Everyone will have a partner with the same number, you two will be sharing a room. Don't fret, there are different bedrooms, but the rest of the space is shared." She said, to lull confusion that Hermione heard about her when people began sharing keys.

"What?" Came the shriek of a girl that could only be Pansy, "I am NOT sleeping in the same vicinity as a Hufflepuff!" She glared daggers at Susan Bones, who seemed to shrink under the gaze. When she turned angrily around, the look that Susan reciprocated seemed to convey the shared sediments.

"Well, unless you can find a willing person to trade, that is out of my hands. But be warned, Parkinson, if there are any pre-mature deaths- 'accidents' or not before the games begin, the consequences may be…severe." The direct threat made Pansy snap her teeth in frustration. As it turned out; no one wanted to sleep in the same housing situation with the dragon girl.

Hermione could think of only a handful of people she would not mind sharing with; Hannah and Ernie for their obvious ally connections, and a couple others that she could altogether ignore successfully that wouldn't be much of a bother.

It seemed within a few short moments, everyone had gathered in their pairs. Hermione turned in a circle to find a lone teenager, who hadn't yet been paired. She spun right into Seamus.

"Number 12?" He asked, clinking his eyes in his own fingers.

Bugger. Umbridge sized upon them, at the sound of the number.

"Oh!" Her face held fake enthusiasm, "You two are lucky, and you got the suite!" Other people looked up, some with jealousy, others with mirth.

"Oh, lucky us." Hermione grumbled. Maybe there was enough room to put her far away from Seamus in the suite.

"Follow me now, I'm sure you all know your partners and will be respectable and civil to one another, correct?" There some half-hearted agrees, and one very annoyed huff from Pansy.

Umbridge shoved all 24 students onto one larger than normal elevator that was obnoxiously packed all the same. Pairs got off at each number, and Hermione felt time dragging on to reach the 12th floor. Soon, it was just the three of them left- Seamus, Umbridge, and Hermione. She could not imagine a more awkward situation. Well, if it had been Ron instead of Seamus that may have been worse. Hermione might be a screaming match with him at this point. He, luckily, got off at the second floor so Hermione didn't accidently set him on fire with her glare of death.

The ding of the elevator pulled Hermione from her thoughts, and she and Seamus were unceremoniously pushed into the suite. "Wake up is sharply at 10 am tomorrow, with a light breakfast down on floor one. This is where I leave all of you until before the games. New supervisors are already here, and will know if anything naughty happens." Umbridge didn't sound all that disappointed to be rid. Hermione wondered what constituted as 'naughty'. They had never been given a defined list. Did they mean naughty as attempting to sneak away, killing an opponent, or something sexual? She looked at Seamus, and wanted to barf at the latter.

The suite was massive and beautiful. It looked like something futuristic magazine or book. It was sleek and modern, with windows on all sides looking out over London. They must be higher up than she had originally thought, because the view was stunning.

She turned sharply, and saw their bags magically appear in their rooms. She had been worrying about what she'd wear to bed. She was tired, and even though even now she could see a kitchen and a hot tub, she was too exhausted to explore anymore. She picked up her suitcase.

"Well, goodnight Seamus." Her words were clipped.

"Wait! Hermione, somethin' is still buggin' me. 'Bout what ye said on the train."

"If you still haven't figured it out, then I don't know if you deserve to be told!" Hermione sniffed, a new wave of disappointment washing over her.

"Wha-,"

"The damn secret meetings on the train. You slammed a door in my face. Am I not good enough to be your ally? Do you think I'm weak? Worse off than crazy Luna Lovegood?" She spat, and spun sharply on her heels.

"No! Hermione, it's not like that." He tried to argue, but Hermione was in a bad mood.

"Goodnight Seamus. I'll see you in the morning." With that she promptly slammed the door on him, and after changing, fell into bed. Her sleep was dreamless.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione woke to an alarm that was run through the walls seemingly at the time of 9 AM. Grudgingly, she searched blindly through her suitcase for a robe and threw it on. The lights in the suite were already brightly lit, and the smell of breakfast wafted through the area.

"Mornin'." Seamus greeted, as if the harsh words last night had never happened, as he stirred eggs in a pan.

"You cook?" She asked numbly.

"Aye." He said, turning to tend to a couple sausages, "Me mum taught me how. Being the youngest, I was always put on kitchen duty." He said.

"Oh. Aren't we eating with the others?" She asked, "Or do we have to eat separately."

"No. Other places don't have kitchens. I'd be a shame not to use such a beautiful set, though." He said, "We have the option of eating meals in here. I can't image the food down there is better."

"Probably true." Hermione agreed, and her stomach growled. She took two plates after a bit of searching.

"Do ya want toast?" Seamus asked, "Orange juice?"

"Anything you have." She said with a long sigh, "I may as well fatten myself up now."

Seamus grinned widely at her statement and chuckled, "I hope you're ravenous."

Eggs, toast, sausages, and a little bowl of oatmeal complete with a high glass of orange juice was sitting in front of her not a moment later. Seamus dished his own, twice the giant serving of what she'd already been given, and was careful to sit across from her.

"I thin' there were a misunderstandin' about the train." He said softly after a long time of placid and civil talk; mostly banter and wit, which Hermione was very much enjoying.

"I know what I saw." Hermione savagely stabbed a sausage.

"Fine lass. What did ye see?" Seamus asked irritably.

"A secret planning between you, Ron, and Luna. I told you this already. I get it. You don't want to be in alliance with me. I shouldn't have so much assumed."

"Hermione that's not what-," a loud blaring interrupted whatever he was about to say. He grimaced.

"Time to go?" Hermione asked weakly, looking at her state of undress.

"That be the ten minute warning." He said, and got up to scrape away the little that remained on his plate.

"I should get dressed." Hermione said, glad for an reason to leave. She was done waiting on excuses. Besides, she shouldn't be so hurt. Seamus didn't owe her anything.

She reappeared not long later in a pair of jeans and a simple tee-shirt, unprepared for what was to come. Seamus handed her a piece of paper.

"Was slipped underneath the door last night." He said. It was her schedule. Five days of hard work, it seemed. She wished she had run a bit more before being chosen, because she knew she was unfortunately out of shape.

She brightened when she saw a couple names on the list. "Alone practice with McGongall? And Fred's here too? And Cedric and Oliver?" She asked.

"'Course. Bring in teachers to teach us, bring in winners to watch it all again. They're what is called 'sponsors'." Seamus said with a wince, "Or 'Mentors'. Either way, they'll be helping one person stay alive. There's only five of them, so it is important to get their loyalty." He said, as if quoting a guidebook.

"Well, I seem to be alone with Fred three times- the only one who I seem to be alone with. But he's going to help Ron, won't he?" Hermione asked. Seamus shrugged in response.

"Wait, I'm alone with McGonagall…five times." She said, jabbing the first session. Seamus peered over her shoulder.

"Ah, I seem to be with her three." He said, and Hermione attempted to decipher a hint of jealousy or otherwise, but his voice seemed cheery.

"Snape? Glad I'm only with him once. I bet he's seeing Malfoy like eight times." Seamus continued, examining the list, and checking his list, "Shall we go?

Hermione nodded and they took the elevator to the sub level 1, and she was surprised to find basically everyone already there. She scowled at Ron, and purposely avoided him. She didn't need his excuses.

Hannah, though, she was trying to make an ally with. Then she mentally kicked herself. These were people, not pawns in a game. She shouldn't be so dehumanizing. She talked with Hannah because Hannah was her friend. Yes, that was why.

"How did you sleep?" She asked, and Hannah rolled her eyes.

"Oh, fine. I'm with Michael Corner. He's not totally horrible and arrogant, but he does snore. Those walls are paper thin!" She snickered, and both girls looked at the Ravenclaw and laughed together, "How's the suite?" She asked anxiously.

"The kitchens, Merlin." Hermione raved, "And the rooms are almost too good to believe." She described them, and saw envy bubbling in Hannah's eyes, but it was not unkind. It was a friendly envy, an appreciative envy.

"You can come up and hang out up there with me after today, if you'd like." Hermione added, "There's a hot tub."

"Hermione, clearly karma is good to you." Hannah said, shaking her head in disbelief, "And being a supportive friend I will keep you company in the lonely hot tub after today." She added.

The bell dinged, signaling the start of class and there was a loud bang from the doors. Madam Hooch whooshed in, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She knew this teacher- her name hadn't been on the sheet. She said a prayer of thanks and praise.

"Is everyone here?" The woman's hawk like eyes searched around the room, "Only twenty-three? Whose missing?" Her voice was chipped. There was a murmuring from the group.

"Wayne." Ernie said, his brow furring in confusion, "I was just eating with him. I don't know where he is-," He began, but the elevator doors came open and a flustered seventh-year stumbled through the doors.

"HOPKINS!" Her voice rang through the large area, banging in Hermione's ears.

"I didn't know where this was. I got a little lost and-," He began to say, wincing and laughing. Hooch stormed up and grabbed his collar.

"Do you find this funny? Do you think it's okay to be late? Will you be so careless in a week?" She yelled at him.

"Not funny, ma'am. Carless though? Being late? I don't see how-," He began to say with faux confidence, and Hannah took a sharp intake.

"Shut up, Hopkins." She hissed under her breath.

"Are you really so naïve?" She asked him, pulling him to the front.

"What?"

"Out there, a moment slip up, forgetting your way, could kill you. Stumble off a cliff when you take right instead of left. If you aren't smart enough to figure out how to read buttons on an elevator, then you should begin saying goodbye to your loved ones, Hopkins." She said, and pushed him into the group. At first, Hermione was outraged at her words, but she realized the frustration underneath the harshness. Hooch most likely trained each twenty-four or whatever the number. Mostly Hogwarts students. Every year, this teacher and others had to watch star students and good people die to a tyrannical leader. She was upset. She didn't want Hopkins to lose, but she couldn't sugarcoat it. It was her effort to show him his attitude. Hermione smiled inwardly.

Hooch coughed, and looked up. "Those clothes won't do. I am here to make you fit and to train you in some kinds of combat. I will see you twice a day. In the mornings will be strength training, afternoons after lunch will be skill building. For this, you need special outfits. Choose your size." She said, throwing a bag at the feet of the students, "And change quickly. There is no room for feeling insecure."

Hermione didn't want to take off her shorts and top in front of everyone, and she bit back irritation. Hannah was uneasily fingering the hemming of her shirt as well, and gave Hermione a helpless look. Some of the girls and boys were already half-way done dressing, and Hermione attempted not to look at their underclothes. It was an invasion of privacy.

"LET'S GO!" Hooch shouted, and Hermione grabbed her size and threw off her shorts unceremoniously in a rush of confidence. Hannah did too, and cried in anger. Her friend has chosen the one day to wear a lacy thong.

There was a catcall from Pike, and Hannah yanked on her clothes. She then marched up to him, and kicked him in the balls.

"Have a little respect!" She said, embarrassment and tears edging on the tip of her wavering voice.

Pike just moaned and rolled over in pain. Hooch was looking the other way.

Everyone was dressed by this time in lightweight fabric suits with a zipper up the back. They went down to her mid-thigh and just above her elbows. Hooch threw out a couple elastics for the girls, but Hermione already knew any attempt to control her hair was useless.

"Now give me three laps, twenty push-ups, one minuet plank, thirty jumping jacks, and lift any of these weights twenty times. In that order." There was little silence, and Hooch sighed.

"The best of each exercise round will be reworded, so today it will be the fastest. But don't think you can cheat. I could give you crap about how you're only cheating yourself and your chance of winning, but I know we have Slytherins here anyway." She glared at Draco who raised an eyebrow, "So this magical board will keep track of time and how many of each activity you do."

Susan gave a whimper.

"Well what are you waiting for, GO."

Hermione cussed Hooch, and asked the sky to take back her praise.

Admittedly, she was doing better than some of the girls and a boy or two. She was never athletic, so this was a real challenge for her, and her lungs killed. The idea of losing and receiving last place, though, pushed her on even though her sides felt like they were being ripped apart.

Susan just kind of stumbled like a zombie after the first lap, which was about the size of a American football field. Her father once watched such things; yelling at the TV as if the players across the sea could hear him. She had found that so utterly strange.

Elizabeth was done after the third lap. She sat down, her hair wet with sweat. Hooch yelled, but she firmly said she couldn't do anymore, to which Hooch pulled the young girl up and took her to the side.

Hannah was keeping up fairly well.

"Whatta a work out." She puffed, breathing heavily, "I'm sort of dead at this point." She said as she began her sit ups.

"I want to just lie down and stay there." Hermione agreed, but regretted her words. They showed weakness. Her only consolation was Miss Murder, Pansy, was agitated and breathing heavier than she was. Yet the girl was not giving up.

Hermione had known that only in an alternate universe would she win such a contest, so she was not surprised when Ernie came out first. Blaise was second. Draco was third.

"Well, that made me sweat a bit." Ernie said, and he was hardly affected. It was unfair, Hermione thought with a pout. Hooch still made everyone finish or drop out.

"That needs to improve." She said, her only words on the matter, but the displeasure evident in her tone, "How are you ever going to outrun a wild manticore on your tale, Susan?" She directed her question at the first to have given up.

"Manticores?" Susan was trembling.

"The game makers will throw every horror at you, and then some. You are without wands. You are powerless. Let's be honest- about seventy percent will die from starvation, drowning, natural disasters, poison, and ect. Twenty percent from what the game makers toss into the ring, to stir the pot. Only ten from actual kills from others. This is not a game of murdering each other first, this is a game of surviving in the woods."

"What if we want it to be a game of killing others?" Pansy asked with distaste.

"You are a sick girl, Parkinson."

Ernie's prize was a long break while everyone else did some strength exercises until Hermione felt like her whole body was made of jelly. She could hardly put one foot in front of the other when she went to pick up her clothes and go to the elevators. Her next lesson was with McGonagall. Hopefully she would be okay with having Hermione never sit up. For at least a day.

Hannah was going to meet alone with a past victor, Cedric Diggory.

"We were friends way back." She said, blushing a bit.

"Friends?" Hermione echoed, raising an eyebrow as they got into the elevator.

"Well, friends is a lose term." She admitted after a long moment of Hermione's stare, and her face fell, "Now he'll have to watch me die."

"Hannah, don't be so…"Hermione struggled for the words, "You might not." She offered up. Hannah gave a morbid smile and a shrug.

"I might so." She replied and stepped off on the sub level 3. Hermione was on the absolute lowest floor, sub level 12. The first thing that she noticed when she stepped off was the overpowering smell of aged water, like she was in a cave.

It was brightly lit, though, and a little drafty. McGonagall was waiting.

"Hermione dear, I…" She came forward and hugged her former student, and Hermione hissed in sharply.

"I'm a little sore from Hooch." McGongall's eyes twinkled for a moment.

"Yes, she can be quite…pressing." She agreed.

"Is there somewhere I can sit?" Hermione asked.

"Of course. Water? Food?" McGonagall asked, and Hermione nodded vigorously.

"Please." She said, her voice cracking, "So…each teacher will show us some skill. But I'm alone with you. What are you teaching?" Hermione asked, and McGonagall sighed.

"You are astute. " McGonagall sighed, "I teach…well, Hermione what do you know of Magic theory?" She asked.

"Not much. Those books were hidden at Hogwarts."

"I do realize. Do you know where your magic comes from?" She asked.

"From inside of us. It is something we are born with. I don't think anyone knows why or how, though. Our wands are a way to translate the magic to be corporeal."

"Exactly!" There was a look of triumph on her face, and Hermione sat back, relaxing, "The wand is not what holds the magic, it is an extension of the body. But Hermione, I have studied magic theory in my many years, and I have mastered wandless magic."

"I haven't been successful." Hermione admitted her faults, cringing in pain at those words.

"You have not been told the right things, then." McGonagall pressed her lips, "This is…something to change the game, Hermione. It is…powerful. Once you know, wands will be near useless." She said, "What hand is your wand hand?" She asked.

"My right hand." Hermione replied quickly.

"Then your most magic hand is your left. You see, your right requires the most…assistance. I assume you have practiced wandless with your right hand?"

"Well, of course." Hermione frowned, "Wouldn't the magic conductor- the wand- be best in the hand that feels natural?"

"No. When you cast magic, your body balances itself. Your left hand contributes, although unknowingly, so the wand in the opposite hand creates a force just as powerful to balance the body. Your internal workings would start to break down from the imbalance if the wand had not been made. Wandless magic, therefore, is quite dangerous. Yet, you could kill with it."

Hermione mulled over her words. "How many students are you teaching?"

"Three from each house. The most likely to be able to achieve such strides. Not everyone will. Only a few will even make a feather flutter, but I have faith in you of all. This is why I meet with you the most."

Hermione felt honored in a sort of way. "Who else, if you don't mind me asking?" She said.

"Seamus and Collin from your house."

"Not Ron?" Hermione said in surprise.

"I quite vividly remember second year, when he sent every spell back at himself even with a wand in hand." She said dryly, and Hermione chuckled.

"Right. Not Ron."

"Hannah, Leanne, and Ernie from Hufflepuff. Luna, Elizabeth, and Caligula from Ravenclaw. Draco, Blaise, and Tracey from Slytherin." She said. Hermione gave a grunt of surprise.

"Not Pansy either?" She asked, "You don't think she could-,"

"Oh I have no doubt she could, Hermione." McGonagall's voice was gave, "But I cannot watch her with this secret. It is not for her hands to hold. It is not the secret for a killer. I had to forge the reasons to provide sufficient evidence she was not suitable to be a chosen candidate."

"Oh."

"She may have already been taught it." McGonagall added.

"That's…not comforting." Hermione frowned, "What are you teaching to the groups, then? The remainder?"

"Oh, a short lesson on animagnus. That could be mighty useful in a time of dire need, but I am not sure most would ever be able to achieve that either. I figure if you are ahead of your lessons, and master this within the first three days, I can attempt to teach you that as well." She took a breath, "Anything to help you win, Hermione."

Hermione brushed off the comment. It wasn't that she was not grateful, it was that she was uncomfortable. They shouldn't have been so invested in her; where were they when Harry needed their help? Was this a 'sorry your best friend died' type of payback, as if saving her life could right the first wrong? And what about Ron? Sure, he wasn't the most apt wizard on the planet, but he didn't deserve to die tragically. But then he'd see Harry. That, she reminded herself, made a death here almost worth it.

"How do I begin?"

"Stand up; sitting will only hinder you. Keep your right hand behind your back, so you aren't temped to use it. It will only make you feel sick. We're just going to work simply. Move this." McGonagall set a paper card on the table.

"Just a sheet of paper?" Hermione asked dubiously.

"It takes great mental concentration. Say the words out loud, and act like your fingers are the wand. Will the power through your fingers, and visualize the paper fluttering in you hand. We'll start with 'Wingardium Leviosa'."

Hermione bit her lip. A first year spell. That couldn't be that hard. Could it?

She was once again very wrong. She only made the paper flutter in the air for a moment, not even a full minute, before she was sent off to her next schedule of the day. McGonagall seemed pleased though.

"We'll meet again tomorrow. It's easier the second day. Don't dally tonight, straight to bed, so your brain can rewire your instinct." She instructed briskly. Hermione was still sore, and knew that she was already going to disobey the instructions to soak in the hot tub a bit. Besides, she had promised Hannah.

Lunch was a quiet affair, everyone wary about what their companions had learned, if it was something that in a couple days could kill them. Hermione sat by Hannah and Ernie, both more than willing already to discuss and alliance with her.

"You'd be crazy not to side with you, Hermione." Ernie said logically, eating four bread loaves it seemed, "You're not called the smartest witch of our generation for nothing."

"Thank you, but that's only with a wand." Hermione replied uneasily. Ernie shook his head.

"Bs, that is. You have to know more than Susan at least." He frowned, "I mean, she's' my housemate and all, but we all know she's not going to last. I feel really bad, but…I want to see my family again." Hermione saw a little light appear in his eyes, and involuntarily flinched. The game was already changing him. He noticed it, and winced.

"I'm not going to kill you, Hermione. I don't want to kill anyone really…" He admitted, showing his usual Hufflepuff side once again. Hermione still did not relax, even with the promise of an alliance from him. There wasn't much to talk about except the games, and no one wanted to discuss anything else, because all that chatter seemed pointless.

After lunch was their second time with Hooch, for the skill section.

* * *

**So this chapter was already like 20 pages so I decided to cut it in half. Yay! And btw I have a picture list thing of all of the tributes up on my deviant art. I'll post a link in my page soon enough.**

**Please review if you like! **


	6. Chapter 6

"I wonder what she'll teach us." Daphne was saying, nervously tugging on her hair. Hermione had never seen her nervous, and it did not look good on her.

"Still I'm sure I already know." Pansy sneered arrogantly, "It's all weaponry. I've been practicing for this since it began!"

Hermione bit her lip to keep from saying a rude comment, but someone else beat her to it. Hooch arrived to see Pansy with Elizabeth Archibald off the ground, a fist ready to strike.

"Parkinson!" Hooch's shrill voice was like a slap to the face. The black haired-girl dropped Elizabeth, who stuck her tongue out at the older girl, which luckily Pansy did not see, "You will be killed first thing in the games if you behave like that!"

"No one can kill me, I'll kill them first." Pansy shrugged off the threat.

"I wouldn't worry about the opponents, I'd worry about the game makers." Hooch said, and then pointed in the corner, "Today, we will begin basic training with a bow, a sword, daggers, and bare hands. You will work at the simplest exercises and master all four of them. I must give you the green to head to the next station. If you finish early, you may go back to your rooms until the next class. If you are still trying to achieve these easy instructions after two hours and fifty minuets, then your dinner time will be used for private lessons with me." She said, "Get into groups of six- I could care less but each gather at a station, so it's at least a little manageable."

Hannah grabbed Ernie and Hermione's hands at once, and Hermione grabbed Elizabeth because she already liked the little teenager. Ernie called over Collin to add another boy, and Hermione wasn't sure who their last person would be, but they went to the archery first. Hermione was picking up the bow hesitantly when she heard the last person speak.

"I guess I'm with you five."

Ugg, Draco.

Hermione spun around, "What? Not budding up with your Slytherin pals?" She asked in a harsher tone than she intended.

"No." He said simply, "Was that not obvious?"

The topic was dropped, and Hermione looked at the instructions. Hooch would be by soon to instruct them on the finer points, but they were free to give it a go until she appeared. She was currently showing Tracy Davis the correct way to swing a sword at the station next to them. It seemed as though she'd be there awhile.

"I've shot a bow before," Collin said, lifting one in his hand and testing the weight, "It's none too difficult. All we have to do is hit the target at least six times, not in a row, but one has to be a bulls eye. Easy."

"Easy for you!" Hannah rolled her eyes, "Show us, oh great Master?" Collin picked up a bow, and strung the arrow. He breathed deeply, and aimed for one of the six targets at the end of the little area, and steadied himself. The arrow was let go with a twang and had nearly hit the bulls eye. Hannah muttered sourly. Hermione was not hesitant to pick up the bow, but shooting it was a whole other story.

Wand fights were so…easy. All you had to do was aim and be a decently good spell caster. It was vastly different to hold something so bulky in your hands, and then be expected to string something, pull back, aim, and shoot with deadly accuracy.

He first try was an epic fail of large proportions. She didn't even make it to the target, but only a little half way there. Okay, she needed to pull back farther. Beside her, Hannah was swearing up a storm as she attempted miserably to even get the arrow on the string. When she did, she couldn't hold it up, and she hissed sourly. Collin was letting them fly with ease, and Hermione knew that he would be done soon. He was giving Hannah side comments as he saw her struggle, but they were more exasperated than anything.

Ernie was strong, but a horrible aimer. All his arrows embedded themselves in the walls all around the target, anywhere but. "You should have at least hit one of those!" Collin cried in frustration. Ernie gave a shrug, before stopping everyone and jogging out to pry his arrows back. Elizabeth was at least shooting, but they all hit the rim of her target, and Hermione could see her shaking fingers as she raised the arrow to her face, squinting one eye in the hopes of making it farther up the circle.

And then…there was Draco, the smug little bastard, standing next to his shooting line causally. Hermione was at first going to ask if he didn't know how, but then noticed that he was already done. Bullocks. Draco noticed her watching.

"How do you know how to shoot a bow?" She asked, the words slipping out.

"My mom." He shrugged, "Thought it was manly and worth a little heirs time." There was an acidic tone to his voice, and Hermione could at least understand his anger. Never in a million years had he imagined that the Dark Lord's golden boy would be dragged into this mess, he thought he'd graduate and learn the finer things of being a millionaire. Life was a bitch, wasn't it?

"Of course." Hermione was not letting any filters stop what she had to say, they might be dead anyway soon. She ignored him, and lifted her bow, this time making it a wee bit closer to the target. Draco sighed.

"No, no. You'll never hit the target like that!" He insisted. Hermione groaned, spinning on him.

"How do you know?" She asked, and Draco silently glanced at his own completed activity in response. Okay, so maybe he knew a few things, but that meant he had no right to judge.

What really surprised Hermione, thought, was he set down his own bow and remaining arrows and came to where she stood. He made a pose, "You're slouching, and all. You need a firm, steady posture. Use your mouth as an anchor."

"My mouth as a what?" She repeated, not getting what he was saying. Draco motioned for her to get into the stance, and fixed her arms. Then, he picked up his own bow and pulled the arrow back by his jaw line.

"See, an anchor. Steady it there, and you'll aim much better."

"But I feel like it's pulled back too much." She argued.

"Just try it, Granger." He snapped and Hermione swung it up.

"Fine!" She said, and did what he said, and let the arrow go. It would fail, and then she could tell him to-there was a soft thud, and she turned. The arrow was almost at the bulls eye, just an inch away. Draco gave a slightly arrogant smirk, then waved Hooch over. Hermione was positively sour finishing her archery, which she thankfully did after half an hour. Hannah was catching up, and the men had already moved on. Elizabeth was close to being done too.

"Maybe I'm just not cut out for archery. Maybe I'll be better at daggers or something." She sighed, looking at her three arrows on the target. Hermione was waiting for Hooch to dismiss her.

"You'll get it eventually. Look- half way done!"

"Blaise already lapped me." She said grudgingly.

"Yeah, he lapped me too. What else is new?" Hermione shrugged, unworried. Hooch came over, and Hermione left her friend regretfully, as she moved onto the swords. The first one she picked up was too heavy, and she buckled forward, groaning. No, this was not how it was supposed to work. Surly not.

"Perhaps, a lighter one." She muttered to herself, and examined them all carefully. The next one she picked up was not too strenuous, although she was slightly afraid on any back swing she'd hit herself, but nothing could fix that.

Her assignment was to battle a magical simulator until she won. It was set to the beginner's level, and first it took her through a few basic steps. She recalled in the muggle word once her best friend had dragged her to one of her fencing matches, and the moves here seemed rather similar. Step and swish. Block. Again. Go. Her thoughts became little emotions of detached thought, as she really focused. Her arms ached totally.

But she made it through in much better time than her archery. When she was done, of course, she dropped the sword. It hit the ground with a loud clatter- that no one paid attention to- and Hermione resented the fact now she'd have to move to the next station. She was sweating, thirsty, and her whole body was all ready too sore. How did she ever expect she'd finish daggers and bare hands? She thought about calling Hooch over for a moment, to ask for some water before she moved on, but then took a moment to place herself in Hooch's shoes.

"When you're tired in the games, and thirsty, do you simply think you can just have a nice cup of water? Get to the daggers." She hated how good her Hooch impression was.

Seamus, who for sure she thought would be done, was on of the few people milling around. And he was doing horribly. Much the same concept with the archery- but instead of a bow, there was little sets of deadly knives.

Seamus saw Hermione's glance, and scowled. "I'm not usually a lefty." He growled sourly, and now that Hermione saw his right hand- bandaged and swollen, she averted her gaze.

She wasn't going to ask what had happened. She didn't really care. But Seamus told her anyway.

"First round was hand to hand. Blaise fights dirty, nasty Slytherins. Hooch wasn't even going to bandage my hand, bleedin' all over the place! I pointed out we need to be our best for the games, and losin' a pint of blood wasn't gunna help me. Can't do anything with it. Migh' not even be better by the games. Wanker sabotaged me, and Hooch didn't even say nuthin!" He ranted, and Hermione felt a little bad for him. He had a week, but his dominant hand was going to be awfully gentle and needy when he went in.

Bloody Slytherins indeed.

"Can you throw at all?" Hermione asked. Seamus gave her a dead-panned look, his gaze sliding over to where all his daggers lie innocently on the ground.

"I could'a been done by now." He shook his head, "Like Draco or Caligula. But I'm gunna be here during dinner cuz I can't throw straight at all."

He stepped back, offering Hermione his throwing spot, stating that he wasn't going to get much use of it, and Hermione should at least have the chance to move on. Hermione had better accuracy here, as it was like throwing a spell. Her spell arm was strong, and she wasted no time completing her series. She waved Hooch down, about to move on…and then looked at Seamus. He was twirling a sheathed knife around his fingers, and kept dropping it. He would be here all night.

Darn it, she was just too nice.

"Seamus finished his set. He couldn't flag you down." Hermione made an impulsive decision, lying with accuracy. Seamus nearly dropped the knife on his foot. Hooch seemed suspicious.

"With that mangled hand?" She asked.

"It took him a long time. He's really strong though. And good aim." Hermione lied quickly, trying to shoot him a glare that said to just accept it.

"Let him talk fro himself." She scrutinized the Scott.

"Uh…yes ma'am. I did." Seamus recovered his surprise swiftly, and nodded. Hooch looked at the knife in his hand.

"Prove it. Throw that one. Hit the target." She barked.

"I mean, it took a long time I may-," Seamus blubbered but Hooch silenced him. He gave a defeated sigh and took the cover off. Hermione watched and prayed to Merlin he just made this ONE shoot- and it hit. Sorely off target from the bulls eye, down almost off the board, but by Scott he did it.

"Fine. Finnigan, you can be done." She said, "Impressive."

She left, and Seamus looked at Hermione.

"Don't say a thing. Just go." Hermione walked over to the board and pried the seven knives away, "You don't owe me anything."

Seamus seemed conflicted, but she turned to him, knives in hand. She must have had a threatening look on her face, because he scrambled away and out the doors of the training area.

Hermione took even less time on her own set. She was pretty sure Hooch knew what she had done for Seamus, but didn't say a word. Small miracles.

A bigger miracle was at the bare-hand station. All the highly trained people had already gotten done, leaving mostly girls and under-qualified fighters at that. Not that Hermione was a karate master or anything, but she was slightly confident in her abilities.

There was this raised platform, surrounded by obnoxiously squishy pillows about five feet below. You just had to knock your opponent from the platform. McGongall was referring, saying she was called in after Blaise had 'accidently' crushed Seamus' hand with his foot, to make sure there was no foul playing.

She climbed onto the platform to face Elizabeth. She felt bad, really bad, about fighting the young girl in hand-to-hand combat. She looked so tiny, so little. Elizabeth shook her head.

"Susan's up next. I'll let you beat me, because I know I can beat her next. I don't want to waste my energy on this." She said.

"Let's make it look a little believable." Hermione compromised, mentally adding this girl to her list of allies, and the fight began. They play-fought for a bit, fake punches and hits, until they were rolling on the ground. Hermione knew it was silly to pretend she was really getting bested by a small 13 year old, but they kept up this pretense until Elizabeth nodded, and made it look like she failed as Hermione 'roughly' pushed her off the platform.

Elizabeth gave a thumbs-up to Hermione as she got down, one that no one else could see. As she had said, Susuan was up there, looking terrified. Hermione decided a nice shower before he next class was quite in order.

A little flutter rose in her chest when she saw who was next-Fred.

He looked same as always, the wide smile, the ginger spiked hair, the galaxy of freckles across his nose. And when she entered, he scooped her up big in a bear hug.

"Hermione!" She squawked as he lifted her feet from the ground. She pushed against him, and he let her go, but then a little smile just melted off his face. He set his hands on her shoulders, "Ah, Hermione. I am so sorry." He murmured, "About…this…"

"I chose it, Fred. Unlike the unlucky ones. I didn't have to be here." She reminded him.

"You are a true Gryffindor and I want you to know that I'm rooting for you." He said in all seriousness.

"But your brother…"

"Ron is Ron." Fred touched his neck, "I want him to win too, but he's not like you are. Would he have sacrificed himself for a small child? Maybe- I really couldn't tell you. But you, as soon as her name was called I got this sick feeling because I knew what you were going to do."

"I didn't even know what I was doing."

"Exactly. It's in your blood, it's an instinct. This also makes you someone that quite a lot of people are now going to be watching. No pureblood wants to see eleven-year-olds fight. They're not that sadistic."

"I would disagree." Hermione coughed under her breath the names of some particularly nasty death eaters.

"Not the majority." He argued firmly.

Hermione gave a long sigh. "Okay, what are you supposed to be teaching me? Other than winning the first games, what skills do you have?" She asked. Fred slapped a hand to his heart.

"Mione! I'm hurt!" He gaped, "C'mon think harder."

"All I can think of are the little pranks you and George made when you were younger." She shrugged. Fred snapped.

"Exactly!" He nodded enthusiastically, "Did you think just anyone could make those?"

Hermione thought about it for a moment. It had been eons since she'd seen a Weasley product, and it had been in her younger years. But come to think about it…

"Those were rather advanced skills and spell work." She admitted, frowning, "Actually, it's all rather brilliant."

"Hermione Granger called me brilliant. I can die happy now. No really, can I get that in writing?" He teased, and Hermione playfully pushed his shoulder.

"It's different than potions…" She murmured out loud.

"Someone compared us to what you muggles call…oh, a chemist?" He scrunched his nose, "But look- we didn't have a lot of money,"

"None if I recall," Hermione interjected.

"So we couldn't buy really high tech ingredients. We began by raiding mother's kitchen and dad's array of muggle cleaning supplies and went from there. What I'm trying to say is that first, the ingredients are not too difficult to come by, and second we specifically engineered them to be pranks."

"But…?" She asked. Fred gave her a long look.

"But they can also be deadly." He finished and a shiver ran up her spine.

"But the magic! I can't do magic without my wand in the area."

"We both know MG will enable you to do wand less magic, and most of the magic came from the ingredients over spell work." He said, and then went to a back cabinet, and took out a thick folder, "I've mapped out at least two dozen different things that could be possibly be useful and made in the area. Over the next few days, also utilizing the practice of your wand less magic, we are going to have you make these over and over until you can at least make ¼ in your sleep." He said proudly.

Hermione glanced over the schematics. The first one she picked up was a darkness bomb, which she recalled from a more playful prank. But, she realized, in the area, this could be offensive or defensive. But that looked difficult to make.

Fred stood by silently, like a proud parent, as she carefully leafed through the forty or so designs. It seemed each was more complex and different from the next. But yet, all were seemingly able to be re-created with little ingredients or magic. "These are incredible." Hermione murmured.

"Hold your applause," Fred said, and his fingers traced over the mass of papers, "Which one first?"

"Oh, there's so many, and I…" Hermione paused, "Pick your favorite."

Fred, quick as a bolt, swiped up one seemingly randomly from the middle of the pile. "I had hoped you'd say that."

They spent the time re-creating about eight of Fred's creations from real bombs to a dizzy cloud. Each were numbered and Fred made Hermione copy down a list with little key words. "In the area, if you ever need one of these, just find some way to trace the number really big in dirt or something, and I'll get you what you can't get there." He assured.

Hermione tucked the list into her back pocket as she went to the next lesson; Oliver back in the large room. Ugg, Hermione didn't even have to guess what this lesson was on.

"Flying!" Oliver said enthusiastically when all the Gryiffindors were present, "Is what got me through the competition. If you can have someone send in a broom, or even make one yourself, you are on a whole different level than anyone else that is stuck on the land." Hermione felt her stomach clench.

"How do we make our own broom?" Lavender asked, smacking her gum and tilting her head, "That seems like a ton of effort."

"Well it is, but it could save you. I made my own." Oliver let his pride seep over everyone for a moment than nodded, "I only have an hour- not NEARLY enough time- but for the first half-hour I'll assess your flying skills. For the second, I'll give you a crash course on broom making."

Hermione didn't have to be in divination to know that this was going to be bad. An hour later, she realized she had been wrong.

It was horrible.

After the first few minuets of her flying, Oliver had called her back down and informed her that her flying was less than desirable. Although he'd kept and optimistic smile on his face, it was perhaps clear in his tone that the broom get-away should be a last resort, which she whole-heartedly agreed with.

The last fifty minuets of classes for the day was with Cedric. Maybe it was just her imagination, but he looked happier than usual. Or she could be wrong; Hufflepuffs were naturally a cheery group.

His instruction was with a joint class of Gryffindors and Slytherins. The two houses firmly separated into the different groups by themselves, until Cedric put a stop to that.

"Look, you might think that you can always trust your teammates in the games, your house, but think again." He said, a pained smile on his face.

"And you're saying we can trust those snakes better?" Ron spit a little when he asked.

"Perhaps." Cedric shrugged.

"Bull," Blaise scoffed, "You can't trust anyone."

Cedric paused. "Okay, true, you are all fighting for yourself. But trust me, I've watched and played this game. Believe me when I say that you will not make it to the end unless you have any sort of alliance." He said.

"That sounds like a challenge!" Pansy said. Cedric hit his forehead.

"Ugg, no!" He frowned, "I mean, do you guys even know each other?"

"Do I want to?" Pike asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I know their names!" Tracey said raising a hand, "There's Sea-Mush, Ron, Uh…Collin something…Her-moi-ne, Lavender, and Fairy!"

"It' Faye." Faye said, irritated.

"Exactly what I mean." Cedric said.

"Don't group me in the same idiot grouping as her." Daphne gave a disgusted scoff, "I know their names."

"But do you know much else? I doubt it. What I had planned was something totally different, but this changes. We're going to do a little get-to-know each other.

The groan that emitted was mutual.

"See! You already all have something in common!" Yes, Hermione decided Cedric was usually this happy. Cedric pulled out his wand and waved it at a stack of papers. He handed a packed out to everyone.

"You will meet with everyone here- house mate or not- and do this little questionnaire. It won't let you go until you answer it and answer it honestly." He said with a smirk.

It was a fairly simple and not too personal questionnaire. Full Name, Date and Place of Birth, Blood-Type (Magical and Non-Magical), Favorite Food, Favorite Animal, Favorite Spell, Favorite Childhood Memory, Last Person You Said 'I Love You' to, and One Secret They Don't Know About You.

When Hermione figured it was fairly simple, she underestimated the stubbornness of her house-mates and savageness of Slytherins. She, logically, knew that the sooner they got through this the sooner she could go up and eat and have free time or learn something more useful. No one else seemed to think this way, though, and just stood around the groups of chairs set up, waiting until Cedric literally forced them into a chair.

It was interesting, if nothing more. True, most answers weren't surprising, but also not unsurprising, but average at most. The average part was what surprised her. Pansy, when replying to these questions, seemed almost normal. It wasn't like her favorite food was blood, which Hermione may have been expecting just a little.

Draco was clearly missing from the group, the one Slytherin Hermione could even somewhat stand. His disappearance was very curious to her.

It was just strenuous to get through everyone. Cedric finally sighed.

"You all seemed tired, and I'm not going to fight you all anymore. You're dismissed." He said with a wave of his hands. There was almost a fist-fight to get out of there.

Hermione went straight up to her room when she saw Seamus heading there to inform him she'd have company tonight. It was only the polite thing to do.

"Really? Me too." He said.

"Hannah's coming up for dinner and hot tubs, and I'm putting up a curtain. I swear to Merlin, Seamus, if you try to peek at us I will find a way to hex your balls off." She threatened, stringing up a bed sheet. It wasn't like they had thought to bring swim-suits, so underwear would have to do.

"Hear ya' mate. No lookin'." He said, "Me 'nd my boys are gunna be up 'ere just having a pint."

"Seamus you're-," Hermione stopped to yell at him for drinking.

"Being sent off into an area o' death. Yeah, I think we can have some liquor without bein' mothered." He said, and Hermione shut her mouth.

At a little after 9:10, Seamus' friends arrived. Ron, Michael, Colin, and Justin all came in loudly through the door.

"Hermione's not saying anything about us drinking? What kind of alternate universe is this?" Ron asked, tipping a fire-whisky can to her. She clamped her mouth shut, and turned around.

"You're welcome to join us!" Justin called after, and she gave a fake smile.

"No thank you, I'm fine." She said in a hard edge, straining the noodles from the pan. The men all laughed about something, and Hannah thankfully came to her rescue. She said noting as they took their plates of spaghetti and milk glasses over to behind the curtain where the hot tub lay. There were a few cat-calls and whistled, and she figured Seamus told the boys where they were going. Hannah opted to strip down completely, to which Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I thought Hufflepuffs had more shame."

"I'm done with being afraid of life." Hannah muttered, throwing her ball of clothes angrily at the window. Hermione, who decided to stay in her knickers and bra, didn't say anything.

The hot tub was heavenly. Hannah seemed ravenous, and ate her whole plate and half of Hermione's.

"How was Cedric?" She asked, and Hannah blushed really hard.

"He kissed me." She whispered softly, touching her lips.

"…And?" Hermione asked, "How do you think it's going to work?" She asked, "You're going to an area soon…"

"It's technically probably not allowed, but he's coming up to my room tonight. Sneaking in to be with me. I feel so lucky."

"Hannha…" She began, sighing.

"Hermione. This time next month, I might be dead. I've been a perfect, pristine, pure little girl my whole life. I never drank or did drugs, I only kissed a boy sweetly when I turned sixteen, still a virgin, never went to a party, missed Quidditch games to get perfect grades…and I thought, I would be rewarded for this. But where did it get me? Chosen by random to be killed by psychopaths in some stupid 'game'." She said.

"If you want to see it that way…" Hermione started uneasily.

"I'm done being that girl, Hermione. I'm not going to go whoring around or anything, but I'm going to live what little life I have left and not worry so much about consequences or what society would say. I'm not going to die in there wondering what could have happened between Cedric and I, but that I never did because I wanted to save myself for my wedding night. I'm not thinking that day's going to come anymore…"

Hermione sat in silence. She sunk farther into the water, considering her friend's words. "it's not the stupidest thing I've ever heard…" Hermione admitted.

"Exactly." Hannah agreed, and then tilted her head to hear the boys all loud outside, "Yo Justin! Bring one of those bottles in here!" She called.

"Hannah!" Hermione dove to cover herself, "You're naked!"

"Oh, whatever. I'm pretty sure Justin is as straight as my curls, which as you see, are perfect today. And he might be bi, but this is sorta that not caring I just told you about."

"You're crazy." Hermione began to laugh at everything.

"Crazy people win wars, Hermione." Hannah said, and accepted the bottle from Justin, whose eyes were wide. He left, backing away and Hannah shrugged, "Bi." She decided.

"Gee, if there was one person I could have the pleasure of being trapped in a death area with, I'm glad it's you."

* * *

_I know, I know...more buildup work. But we're getting information and learning things and all._

_If you like it at all, please review! You'll make this author very happy. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey! So I know it's been awhile, but I hope the length makes up for the wait XD I've been a busy bee in the last month, I have a) finished a novel (The Game is Called Death- go check it out), started a new pretty popular fanfiction (Omphalos) and re-discovered an old fanfiction and got back into the swing of things with that. It's another Dramione one :) **

**So only two reviews, slightly disappointing, but I'm happy I got any at all. Things will get more exciting after these couple chapters, I promise! **

**Without further ado:**

* * *

Hermione, over the next four days, took careful notes of all her classes. She figured in either situation of a win or lose it would be useful. If she won, she could use it as a guide to teach future victors. If she lost, perhaps the ones that came after her could see it and realize that even the 'Smartest Witch of their Age' Hermione Granger indeed went through the same pre-trials they did. It was also for herself, really. She was bright and had a good memory, but the way things were thrown at her was a bit overwhelming and unceremoniously switched. One moment she was learning about a detonating rock with Fred, the next someone was teaching her how to make food out of few items, and then after she was back with McGonagall stressing over her wand less magic and animangus transformation. Wow.

The night after all her five days of intense training were finally done, Hermione carefully combed through the notes she had taken.

TUESDAY

_Breakfast: _Seamus cooked again. It's all fancy but I think he'll have a difficult time in the wild without all these supplies, or perhaps I'm wrong. It was awkward for the both of us, per usual. He tried to say something about me saving his arse in the knife throwing yesterday, but I wouldn't have it. I worry about his hand; it's still really bad looking.

_Warm Ups: _Same as yesterday. Caligula won today. Mandy came in second, Draco in third. Mandy is a stronger girl than I thought. I came in 18th. My legs were already aching after yesterday, but Hooch clearly did not care.

_McGonagall: _I moved the paper! She said that she didn't expect that until the middle of class today, and therefore I was quite pleased with myself. She let me take a break and try Animangus work. It's not as taxing, but more frustrating because it happens all at once instead of little by little. I concentrated to find my animal for hours, and I think it might be not what my Patronus is, as weird as that is. McGonagall explained to me that Patronusus can change with age or emotions, but our animangus is always the same. It is the most truthful part of ourselves.

I jokingly thought it may be an owl, since of my smartness, but McGonagall shook her head. She didn't think that was it.

"I think it's a large cat; not like a house cat. I can see it on the edge of my vision…but I can't see it clearly." I had grasped for an answer. McGonagall told me that was far enough today, and we continued back into the wandless magic studies.

_Lunch: _Went back up to my room with Hannah. We made sandwiches. They were quite good sandwiches in my opinion. Seamus made not an entry.

_Group: _In depth Archery work today. Wonderful. I was a bit better at it today than yesterday. The ones who got done early though, had to come back and help us. Luck would have it, it was Draco who mocked me about not retaining anything from yesterday. What a wanker. After that he was helpful, and sly- he made me wait to achieve the task until we had less than half an hour left. At first I was angry, but then I realized I would have had to gone back and helped someone else instead of being let go. I wont' thank him though.

_Viktor Krum: _I remember him from school, back when it was integrated. He was just as handsome. Rumor had it he was going to ask me to the end of the year ball, until he got chosen. I wondered this as we walked in, and he caught my eye and smiled. Perhaps it HAD been true. It was all the Gryiffndors, not one on one, so if there was anything to be said between us, it wouldn't have happened.

Before us, he came from Durmstrang, a notoriously tough school. It bred winners, champions, and celebrities until Voldemort took over. It also had a somewhat sinister reputation. He gave a sad smile. He was teaching us about dark magic, magic that in the early creation of Durmstrang was common classes. It was no shocker that he had won the games with a bit of it, I hated it but he was still alive, so perhaps it was time to be done with morals this and that.

It was a very informative class; not only was he handsome, but he was also intelligent, which was a rare combination. You could see the way he was conflicted as he spoke; he didn't want to teach this. He didn't want us to need it. But those controlled vines that wrapped around a player's neck saved his life. And he wasn't encouraging the really bad stuff, not the cursed stuff, just minor rather more Slytherin playing moves.

"Everyone must be the Slyhterin in these games if you are to survive. Outwit, outthink, and out-act your opponents before the do this to you." These were his final words, which Ron protested violently. He would rather die a Gryffindor than die being a Slytherin, he stated. Viktor just looked at him.

"Then you die an idiot."

_Fred: _Second time seeing Fred. He seems so happy to see me; I haven't remembered him this happy since George died. It really was as if they were so conjoined, that he didn't talk for months after his twin died. If I die, what will he do then? Lapse into sadness again? If Ron dies, and I die, what's left besides Ginny? Merlin knows she's a target next year, unless there's some brand of luck or a star with her name on it. I don't think she alone with her mother could pull him from his sadness if we both died. Therefore, I will win for my friend. It's the least I can do, after all these years.

But it's not just him I'm winning for. It's my parents. Neville. Artemis. Harry. Everyone that didn't choose, that was forced. I chose to be here, albeit under a stupid moment of Gryffindor bravery. But I couldn't force myself to let Artemis die, watch her die, knowing I could have saved her. I'm just Hermione back there- I have no power, no people to get her out of messes in the area. I'm more useful here. At least, that's what I tell myself every moment I begin to doubt it.

I asked Fred if he was teaching Ron any of these, and Fred paused for a long moment. "What I can." He said. His brother met with him as many times as I met with McGonagall, but he was only teaching his brother a fourth of his inventory.

"He doesn't have a memory like you, Hermione." He sighed sadly, "If I can get him to remember at least four in there, the best ones that will serve him well, we've done something good for him." Then Fred looked a little ashamed, "I could teach him more, but this might be the last moments I have with him. Yesterday, I had some Firewhisky called up for us, and we just sat and talked. That's precious, and I'm not sure I'm ready to be the better man and give this time up when I don't even know if he'll win."

Fred was just rambling now, "Perhaps it's better to take the time I have, ever so selfish, but do what I can. Mom and the others do not have such a luxury even to see him, though, so perhaps I'm already taking too much." Then he turned to me, as I stuffed a toad with my mixture, "What do you think I should do?"

"I…I…" I didn't now what to say, "I can't tell you these things Fred. I don't have siblings to be selfish with."

Fred shook his head. "Here I am, blabbering to you when it's your time. I could do the same with you, talk and laugh like we do during the summer, but you can win. Everyone has faith in you, Hermione." He said, and he tugged on a curl.

I moved away. "That's what I'm most afraid of."

_Marcus: _I wasn't looking forward to Marcus' lesson. Not that he was a Slytherin, it was that he was a Slytherin and was one of the worst there was. He, much like Pansy, greatly hated the announcement that there could be two winners of the games the year he played. He nearly murdered poor Oliver before the hovercrafts came and pulled them away. He would rather kill the last opponent and get all the ugly game and glory for himself.

I don't think Voldemort would have just let that go. I think that Marcus was wrong and he would have been horribly punished for it. He refuses to believe that, and I'm not the first person to have thought it before. Now, he and Oliver must stay at least 100 feet away at all times (more for Oliver's safety than his). Nasty business, if you ask me.

It was a class of everyone except the Slyhterins, which I'm sure he was meeting alone with. His lip curled and he glared at us; clearly, he did not want to be teaching this, but was forced to. Hey; if you win, you're still forced to be a pawn to others.

He didn't really teach us much of anything. Told us the stories of his fame and glory, but it was hardly insightful or useful. I think the lot of us stood around, glancing at each other wondering if he was born this stupid. Someone would tell someone else and he'd be punished because he was supposed to be helping us.

Or maybe because hew as a pure-blood Slytherin, nothing at all would be done.

_Dinner: _Seamus asked if he and his mates could use the hot tub. It's not like I can just put a monopoly on it. Besides, Hannah was spending time with Cedric tonight. I worry about that; I think it's probably against the rules for those sorts of emotions to become involved. Yet who am I to tell her how to live the little life she has left?

I took a shower, retreated to my room, and I began writing this.

WEDNESDAY

Two days of hell over, but two days until a worse hell appears. Sigh…

_Breakfast: _I skipped food with Seamus upstairs to journey downstairs. Seamus warned me not to. Ugg, I should have listened to him. Food down there was awful and not very filling. I had time at least to bolt back up to my room and steal some left-over, but not without Seamus' 'I told you so' look the whole time.

_Warm-Ups: _I thought I killed yesterday? Please, I was just kidding. Today I felt like my legs were gong to up and fall off! I couldn't walk a step without my knees beginning to buckle. I don't think I was the only one, because we did a much calmer work out today. It was almost relaxing. A ton of stretching and yoga moves. Just working on strengthening the muscles without having to run at all. Perhaps Wednesday will be my lucky day?

_McGonagall: _She congratulated me on my success yesterday with a bit of tea and biscuits. Then, as I was just sitting there, contemplating everything, it came to me.

My animangus is a Panther.

I never imaged that. I honestly imagined that McGonagall was wrong (which was really quite silly of me) and that it was an otter all along. But it's not. I saw it clear as day, I reached out and touched the nose of the beast and we connected as one.

Wow.

That animal could do some damage during the games.

I could see McGonagall was conflicted on which to teach me. I reminded her that perhaps figuring it out was all the progress I could make today, and it was quite the progress, and perhaps we should continue with my wandless magic?

McGonagall smiled and told me this is why I was her favorite student.

I'm getting to better wandless magic now. It's really pressing. Usually people take years to master this. I don't need to master it, but I do need to get a handle on it by Friday. I cast a patronus wandlessly today, and I fainted promptly after. I think we both agreed enough for one day.

_Lunch: _I hope my friends didn't worry, but because of my progress, I was out for lunch. I was honestly still on the floor trying to be woken for half of it. McGonagall brought me up some food, and even thought I had finished it quickly, she thought it would be best I rest. She wanted to try to get me out of Hooch's lesson, but I don't need Pansy taunting me or to miss something that could save my life. When she told me right to bed tonight, there were no arguing from me.

_Group: _Yesterday was archery. Today is swords. Hooch said that there was a surprise for us, and while to some it wasn't a happy surprise, it was quite the expensive one.

The game-makers would be making a sword for each of us if we passed a certain level of our training, but what that level is, no one seems to be telling us.

It was rather unlike yesterday, though, because we got to go into a section with a sword master individually and spend time creating a sword that was perfect for us. I admitted I was better at daggers, and the sword master winked. It wasn't a creepy wink.

"I'm rooting for you, Hermione. My daughter's best friend is Artemis, and she worships you. I will hid daggers for you in the area, and even if it comes to it, send you one in."

"That's quite generous," I replied, "But I'm not sure if I should be honored to have your daughter's worship." I said.

"With that comment, you already have." He assured, and we spent time swinging and giving pointers to me. I asked him, as a wizard, how he came upon the artistship of sword making? He said that it was merely a hobby when he was younger, but was recruited for Voldemort's games a couple years ago.

"I made the sword that went through Cho." He told me, and he looked shaken by it still, "My beauty killed her."

_Mad-Eye: _I meet with Mad-Eye three times. I've only heard stories but he seems to be a man who has seen a lot. When I asked him what we'd be learning over the three days, he looked at me like I was crazy.

"Just one thing? One subject?" He scoffed at me, "Why would we limit ourselves like that?"

I know I'm going to like him already, no matter his gruff exterior. He knows a lot about the dark arts, but he was mostly teaching me how to effectively stop some things. The first thing we talked about were Unforgivable Curses. He made me watch him perform them.

"Those that master wandless magic- some would not think it below them to use these." He warned. I stared at the carcass of the spider, and I couldn't imagine anything more horrible.

The rest of the things I learned were not as emotionally horrible, but I couldn't really focus. Pansy would not hesitate. Blaise or Daphne would not hesitate. Pike, from what I know of him, would not hesitate. I could be dead and never see it coming.

_Lupin: _I had long ago guessed that one of Harry's favorite teachers was a werewolf. I confronted him and he only laughed and said I was right. He was just that kind of teacher.

He was teaching us about dangerous darker magic creatures, werewolves included. I wondered with horror if Voldemort would be so horrible to send a changed man into the area as a wolf to attack us?

Oh yes, it was Voldemort. Of course he would.

The list seemed to drag on for miles: manticores, mermaids, pixies, boggarts, thresals…the list of horrible creatures that could attack us seemed to never end. Lupin said that there was a few that had never been sent into the area, so he especially prepared us for those animals, as they were very likely to be sent to kill us.

Could I kill a dragon? Dragons had never been put into the area. I don't think I could kill a dragon.

Ron and I stayed after a little, because Snapes class wasn't for another half hour, to talk with Lupin. He gave us chocolate, of course, and I told him about my progress with McGonagall, and his whole face lit up.

He misses Harry just as much as we do.

_Snape: _He insulted the group of Gryffindors the whole time, but hey, did I expect differently? And of course he bragged about the amazing potions skills of his god-son, and how they could save you in a tight pinch. I didn't disagree- not about Draco- but about potions being helpful. They could harm, or they could save. They could even be used against an opponent.

Snape basically just threw some books at us about potions in survival, and a couple others to sabotage, and there was this little woods set up. Seamus asked if all the ingredients in this faux wood would be in the area, trying to figure it out. Snape hit him in the back of the head with a book, and Seamus knew better than to open his mouth again.

Lavender couldn't tell one leaf from another! They weren't labeled in a storeroom that was for sure. Even I had to pull out my trusty guidebook and glance between two leaves. One was poisonous, one was harmless.

Snape did let us know that there would be some potion books in the area, if we were lucky enough to get our hands on them. Then he sniggled, as if there was something none of us knew. Whatta guy!

But as we left, he looked a little sad, a little broken. It's one thing to teach a brother about killing, but Snape thought of Draco as a son. Anyone with eyes could see that he genuinely cared for him, something that he didn't seem to do for anyone else.

And he didn't want Draco to die either.

Not everyone is horrible. Perhaps I shouldn't tell myself that. It just makes it harder to kill my opponents.

But even Pansy must have something or someone she loves, and when she dies, that love of something will die too.

_Dinner_: I told Hannah not to come up tonight. I'm too tired and that lesson today really drained me. I was completely ready to head up to bed and eat something quick and easy when Seamus stopped me.

"You know some stuff about healing?" He asked. I told him my knowledge was limited, but he was persistent. He sat right on my bed!

"Take a look at my hand, will you?" He asked, and unwrapped it.

"I think that the nurses should be doing that." I pointed out.

"They won't. There are none, not really." He said quietly, "I'm going to fail before I even begin."

"Do you cast with your left or your right?" I asked slowly, and Seamus winced.

"McGonagall doesn't know what to do." He answered indirectly, "I can try, but I'm almost useless. I heard you cast a patronus today."

"And I feel like it nearly killed me." I said, recalling why I was in bed as it was.

Seamus sighed and was about to go when I grabbed his hand. "It doesn't just look like a boot crushed it." I told him.

"He really ground it into the ground, even after the crack." Seamus winced, and I tenderly touched some spots, "I kill him first."

"I don't know what you expect me to do without a wand?" I told him, but I felt really bad for him.

He looked at me, and then shook his head. "Never mind, Hermione. Goodnight."

THURSDAY

Hermione put her diary down, and sighed. What had happened that morning was beyond comprehension, and she didn't dare write it down. There were some things that were condemned to memories and this was one of them.

She had woken after about nine hours of sleep, and still with three to spare before the next day or training. She never usually needed that kind of sleep, so she figured it was her body's way of saying thanks for a good night's rest, and she knew she would not be able to get back to sleep.

She made herself a cup of tea, and went out and put herself in the hot-tub. It was heavenly, and really relaxed her.

The sky was just beginning to turn light, and she relaxed back into the water to enjoy the view. She didn't think anyone else was awake to see this beauty. She turned to her left lazily, and saw- wonders of wondrous- Draco Malfoy on the roof of her penthouse, legs dangling over the edge, watching her sunrise! She gawked, and as if sensing her gaze, he locked eyes with her. They broke it quickly, and Hermione threw on a towel to open the window that she saw him out of.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Watching a sunrise." He said, shrugging.

"How in Merlin's name did you get all the way up here?" She motioned, "On my penthouse roof!"

"Magic." He replied, deadpanned. Hermione sputtered, and shook her head. She noticed he still had his nightclothes on, and it wasn't a particularly warm day. In fact, she felt a harsh breeze on her exposed skin, and saw Draco trying not to shiver.

"You do this often?" She asked, motioning out. He nodded absently.

"Every morning." He replied, "Every morning I have left."

Hermione looked at her warm hot-tub, and Draco shivering in the cold. It wasn't like he was being totally horrible yet, so she gave a long sigh.

"Would you like to watch from my hot-tub?" She asked with a inward groan. She had known what she was going to ask, disapproved, yet asked him anyway.

He seemed more than slightly surprised, he nearly fell of the building. Nevertheless, he nodded and made his way cautiously inside. He seemed quite aware that she was watching him.

"Do you want breakfast?" Hermione asked. She wasn't sure why that seemed to surprise him even more.

"Can you cook?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Minor things, I suppose." Hermione said modestly, "Eggs or bacon or toast?" She offered. Draco gave a wry grin.

"All three?"

She rolled her eyes, but went to make him food, and food for herself. When she returned not long after, he had settled himself in. His shirt was off, but than Merlin she saw he still had his sleeping pants on.

"Are you going to get back in?" He asked as she handed him a plate.

"I…" She said uneasily, "No."

Draco shrugged, and lounged all across the water. "More for me." He gave a content sigh and peered over the edge, "If I had a hot-tub with windows like these to watch the sunrise every morning, I'd be really happy."

"Ask your father then." Hermione said automatically, and Draco shot up and gave her a hard glare.

"And have them knock down a wall and install it right in time for the games to begin? For some other lucky child next year to get my hot-tub? No sir!" He said, "Besides. Not worth it." He added.

There was a silence, although not awkward like Hermione was expecting. Draco broke it. "Why are you doing this? Are you trying to make an ally?"

"No." Hermione said shortly, "I'm just being a nice person. You've been civil to me this whole time, and you looked cold and hungry." She figured honesty was the best course to go with.

"Ah." He said, his fingers tapping on the edge, "I'm not with the other Slytherins as allies."

"I really don't care." Hermione said, but Draco shook his head.

"You do though. You're storing that away into your big little head of yours to bring up later when you're in the area planning actions and strategies." He said, and Hermione felt a blush run up her cheeks. He knew that any piece of information was more than valuable to her.

"If I might ask a question, I noticed you were gone from our group training with Cedric on Monday."

"That wasn't a question." Draco said cheekily, stuffing eggs into his mouth.

"The question was implied." Hermione responded, and Draco gave a shrug.

"Fair enough. My father came to visit me." He said.

"A final effort to get you out? Of course you would get out of training to see your parents." Her throat tightened. She didn't even know if her parents were aware of this. No doubt Voldemort would haul them out to see her participate. Even if she won, how could she look at their faces without feeling shame ever again? She noted Draco looking at her coldly.

"Anyone could get out. It's parents. Our parents did not have the ability to see us off. Not even mine. If your parents showed up, you'd be pulled too." He replied sourly, "And no. It was far from trying to get me out. It was a last moment between a son and a father." Draco's fingers picked up a necklace that Hermione had not noticed.

It was not ornate nor superfluous, like most pure-blood items were. It was a simple emerald stone with a little silver dragon with a snake as the tale curling around it. "My artifact to bring into the games. A piece of home." He said.

"I don't have anything really to bring into the games." Hermione admitted. Everyone was allowed one special item that perhaps reminded them of home. Draco sighed, and set it back down.

"Anyway, I heard I missed some great inter-house bonding though. I'm just going to wither away not knowing your favorite color."

"Purple." Hermione said, and Draco looked a bit confused, "My favorite color is purple."

"Oh. Mine's white."

"That's not a color nor green or silver." Hermione said. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"It is too a color, and for that second comment, gee I had no idea." He gave a dramatic roll of his eyes, "Shall we just go through the whole darn list then?" He asked.

"If you feel the need. I'm fine with watching the sunrise."

"Ah, but that won't be for a while. And perhaps if I can get one bloody Gryffindor's favorites, I'll be exempt from going to everyone and having to fill out the darn sheet." He said with thought.

She gave him a scathing look. "Do you really expect they'd do that?" She asked. He shrugged, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you really expect they wouldn't?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, but shrugged. They were quite the unpredictable group.

The sun rose as they did the questions, and they both took a moment os silence. Not long after, Seamus begun to stir in his room. This was when Draco jumped out, and threw on his night-shirt.

"Why so sudden?" Hermione asked, "its just Seamus."

"Try explaining to him that you have a Slytherin in your hot tub." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh come." Hermione pouted, "He's not like that."

Draco gave her a long look. "You're open-minded. You always have been. It's hard for you to see that sometimes people aren't. I used to be just like he is. He's a good person, but blinded. It's better for me not to be here." He said as his final statement, and then got back onto the roof and jumped.

Hermione gave a little shriek and half threw herself out the window to see him on the pavement at the bottom. But she looked down to see Draco dusting himself off in the balcony below. He glanced up, gave her a salute and through his door he went. Hermione was still craning out the window when Seamus walked into the kitchen.

"Hermione- why are you half out that window in your pajamas?"

_Warm Ups: _Back to horrible intensive work-outs. Hooch is beginning to seem a bit frazzled. We only have one more run after today and then she has to watch us on that screen in the area. I think she secretly loves all of us. Even Draco has seemingly managed to charm her a little. She wasn't mean though, just pushed us. After the breakfast I had with…well on my porch this morning and then a second one when Seamus woke, and the sleep I'd got the night before, I felt very much well rested and fed. Work-outs were almost pleasing.

I managed to get in the top ten runners. I don't know if everyone else just lost will or if I'm really getting that good. Let's pretend it's the latter.

_McGonagall: _Since we had a lot of time, McGonagall said we'd start with what my magic felt most inclined to today. When I thought about the two routes we could take, my intellectual side craved my panther, but my magic flared in my chest when I thought of wandless.

Because of that wandless was easier today. I didn't dare try a patronus again, because that was a lot of exertion on anyone's part and McGonagall chastised me gently for attempting it, instead I did some level six spells.

We took a break half-way through and McGongall began to lay out the past areas for me. We talked about scenarios and the best options to reveal my progress in wandless magic, because that wasn't just something I pulled out the first day.

Then we tried to coax my animangus out, to no avail, which frustrated me beyond anything else I've ever felt. I could feel it inside of me, like a splinter dug in deep, but no matter how much I pulled and gorged it out, it was stuck.

McGonagall told me not to feel worried, because no one else had been able to transform an Animagus or do the skill work with wandless that I could, but I wasn't comparing myself to the others anyway.

_Lunch: _We decided- Ernie, Hannah, Elizabeth and I- that tomorrow during our lunch we would go up to my room to talk strategies, as it was the last free-time we would most likely have before the games. I wasn't sure how the day before the game would go, but I suppose that would be told to us tomorrow night anyway.

_Group: _Daggers.

I was slightly excited today, because it was my best suit. Not like I was the best at throwing by far, or even in the top, but it was what I seemed to be the best at, and I took pride in the dangers that I could. It was a skill that I could not simply learn by reading books, so it was valuable instinctual information.

The man with the swords was back today, and he nodded at me when he saw my face brighten at the display of daggers put in front of him. It began with some informational and history of certain kids of daggers.

It was all very interesting, and I'm sure that at any other time I would have been eating that sort of stuff up. Even so, I was sorting it into the backend of my memory, and it would be interesting at the very most, if I get out of this alive. In the front of my mind, as I listened, I couldn't help but think that the rundown was…useless. In comparison to the games I mean.

It's cool to hear that that dagger originated back in the 1800's or whatnot, but unless we are given a choice from an array of daggers, it's not going to make a difference which one you stab someone to death with.

And because I'm so horribly inadequate with weapons to begin with, all I went for was which felt right in my hand. I could look and use the information to decide what blade will inflict the most damage vs. which would be better for throwing, but like I said before; I don't think I'll get that chance. It may as well be better to get the general skills with a few different, than become attached to one in particular.

And they wheeled out these…mannequins. They were all human like- when we poked them they were filled with fluid and sacks of blood. Hooch said that these were as real to humans as we'd ever get- the skull and all the bones were exactly the thickness and toughness as our own. While practice with everything else had been almost all fun and games, I felt sick without having to be told what we were doing.

"You will attack mannequins from three different positions. From this line," She tapped a line with her foot, "From behind that wall, from the back, and from that loft that is tree height. The glowing eyes will turn off when you have made sufficient enough cuts to kill. We are looking for precise and timely. Give your opponent enough time with a sour throw and they may have time to run or fight back."

And we were left to choose our weapons.

It was gruesome, I watched Blaise chuck a larger dagger at the stomach, and all of the guts fell out, just like a person. Even with the guts and blood on the floor, he didn't die immediately, but he did bleed out. And that had only been the first minute. Susan puked; it was rather gruesome.

It was a harder challenge than I thought. You had to lob it just right, and if you didn't, then it would either make a little incision that hardly bled, or didn't have enough force to really hurt.

Pansy finished in record time. Twenty minuets. She was terrifying. Admittedly, I think we all stopped to watch her. This was clearly her 'thing'. First, from the line, she threw three and only the first was needed. It went right through the heart. The second two hit bulls eye in the eyes. Showing off.

I though, for sure, the back would be trickier for her, but one precise flick of her wrist and that dagger went and penetrated through the back of the skull, and the mannequin fell forward.

Lastly, from the tree, she aimed for the stomach, and it fell and sliced from the heart to his torso. And she was finished.

She didn't say anything as she left, but it left a cloud of unease hanging over our heads. A sharp shoot like that from such angles and distances- without a clunky metal shield, you could be done for. So…I had to be sure that Pansy never came in contact with any daggers. She was almost eloquent with the others, worst hand-to-hand and awkward when using a sword or arrows, but if she got daggers, we were done for.

I finished seventh. I maybe could have done better, but after that show, my hands shook so badly that even if I had gotten the right acceleration, it missed its mark. Seamus looked miserable, and to be honest, I don't think I've ever seen Ron look more like he was going to piss his pants in his life.

As I left, Seamus caught up with me. "Hey, so Cedric told me bout this tradition that the people with the suite do, and I forgot to tell you about it." He said.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"I guess the food sucks down in the cafeteria by the dinner, and it's good to get a good meal in so the suite people usually have a big meal for people up in their room."

I though about it. "That sounds…wonderful, actually. I'll take the girls, you ask the guys."

"Shouldn't we decide who, though?" Seamus asked, and I frowned.

"Aren't we inviting everyone?"

"You want to invite Slytherins?" Seamus looked shocked, "Pansy?"

"She's human too! And maybe she'd see it and remember it in the games as a sign of us being kind people!"

"Human? That's debatable." Seamus snorted then scowled, "You're too good of a person. If Blaise bites my head off when I ask, it's your fault."

"Please. I'm asking Pansy." I hardly thought that he was in the more difficult position.

And as it turned out, I didn't have to ask many people. Soon word spread like wildfire, and I heard Pansy talking about it with Pike if they should go as I walked to Fred's so I didn't have to bother myself by personally inviting her.

_Fred: _

It was my last time meeting with him. I honestly didn't know if I'd see him again after, so today, perhaps I stared at him a little too much, but Merlin…

And I tried to remind myself that with was Gred or Fred or whatever name he used and all and he had been Ron's older brother and funny in my first few years of Hogwarts, but underneath it all…he'd killed people.

"Marietta Edgecombe." He said in a hoarse voice, "She was just coming at me with a spear. After Cho went crazy, so did she! And I had nothing but my hands. These hands." He looked down and gulped. I hadn't forced him to talk, but today, because I was already making much better progress memorization wise, I'd asked about the games. Killing people. He'd looked so distraught, but said he wanted to tell me.

"And I snapped her neck." He said, "Merlin, I remember that sound. So…clear. Like the sound of breaking a branch with your shoe." He said.

"And then you went on to win." I said, "How…how's life?"

And of course I wasn't asking just a mere conversation placeholder, he recognized my real question.

"It never really ends, Hermione." He gave a grin, a show of teeth, but it was dangerous, "Called back here each year, dreams, remembering that you are now a horrible person…" he shook his head, "Enough with that. Exploding papayas, shall we?"

And I suppose that was just the end of it. There wasn't anything left to say.

_Sinstra_

Taught us how to read the stars and constellations to allow us to figure out our position. She also added in some divination stuff about the planets and all, but admittedly I didn't listen much to that. Divination is by far the most useless class a Wizard could be taught. Besides, now…I'll admit…I was getting very, very, very nervous.

_Mad Eye Moody: _

He looked a little shocked when I asked him if he expected me to perform an Unforgivable today, perhaps I said it a bit snidely.

"You really can only cast them if you really mean them. I can tell you wouldn't, not now." He said gruffly, and I was a little calmed. I asked how he could kill innocent spiders, then?

"Because I want someone like you to win." Someone like me? What did that mean? A girl? Gryffindor? Good person? Merlin there could be thousands of defining points that would qualify me for so many people's support in places it shouldn't be. I'm not violent. I am not a killer! Even at the idea of death of myself, I'm not sure if I can do it…I just…don't…know…

He began to teach me the Polyjuice. I almost laughed; I had learned this back in second year, before Voldemort rose. It was when the Chamber was opened. Mine…well, it didn't go well. I can still recall the feel of hairballs climbing up my throat.

Madeye almost laughed, almost smiled at my story. He said that he had a way to make it flawless, easier, and quicker. I had not thought he would have able to be such a great maker of the potion, but he said with a little sly grin he'd done some dabbling in _things _in his youth.

_Dinner _

Umbridge made an appearance. I had hoped to be rid of her; she called everyone into the dining room.

"Tomorrow is your last day of training. I hope you've all learned a lot!" She said, and there were murmuring grumbles, and no one really answered, "Well tomorrow is a big day of preparations. During your lunch period tomorrow, you all will meet down here to talk with a designer about your outfit for the interviews in two days time!" She gave a faux smile, "How wonderful. Men all dressed in their finest, women in dresses-a treat by the generosity of Lord Voldemort." She breathed as if we were the luckiest people on earth.

When she left, I called my group over, and scowled. "And we can't' talk during dinner, we're having everyone up." I finished worriedly.

"Well…" Ernie scratched his neck, "Let's talk anyway. Let people see. Let them get scared." He flashed a smile, and was much more relaxed about it than I was. I scowled, but agreed, as did everyone else. Hopefully Seamus would insist on pulling out the wine and everyone would be so inebriated that few would notice us sneaking off. With luck.

I went to bed early, because Hannah went to Cedric's again. I tossed and turned all night, and finally drifted off, although I woke through the night. I almost wondered if I should wake to see the sunrise…because…well…never mind.

_FRIDAY_

_Morning: _There was a snake in my hot-tub this morning, before Seamus was up. Blond hair, smirking grin, the works. I managed to shoo him away before anyone saw. Bloody Malfoys.

_Warm-Ups: _Hooch pushed us harder than she had ever pushed us before. Someone vomited after the first half-hour. Luckily, not me, although I didn't last much longer. Usually she was kind enough to give us breaks, but today we worked the whole hour and fifteen minuets without stop, in crazy hot conditions of the room, with a burning feeling in our stomachs.

_McGonagall: _I have nearly mastered the basics of wandless magic, and McGonagall told me that if she had ever a daughter, she would have wished that this daughter would have been just like me. McGonagall has always been like another parent, so hearing that was one of the nicest things I think anyone could ever say to me.

I still couldn't get my Animangus out. It bothered me greatly.

_LUNCH: _Perhaps one of the Seven Hells I know. Make-up and fancy dresses. What a waste of time!

And when I heard it was Madam Malkin who would be designing these robes, my stomach lurched. She…ah…made it quite clearly who her preferred customers were (Purebloods). I was the farthest from that. I was eased slightly when I realized that it wouldn't actually be Malkin in the flesh, because no she was far to busy, but assistants.

We were to eat and be called over in the order that the four assistants had; one for each house. I learned that they were all representatives from the four houses, to best create outfits from the pride our houses represented.

She looked at me, and although there was almost a warm vibe from her, I didn't try talking to her. "Hermione Granger." She gave a sly smile, "I know you."

"Oh?" I asked.

"I was a seventh-year when you began. I know your type." Once again I wondered what her type was, although she was sure it was very much different than what Mad-Eye was talking of. The assistant took all the measurements, and dint' ask me a lot of questions. I was out in about ten minuets, tops.

_Group: _After the harsh morning, I hardly expected Hooch to go easy on us. I was correct. It was hand-to-hand combat, and brutal. There was a Medi-Witch on hand to fix bruises and broken noses, and we were supposed to go all out. Susan, of course, failed miserably and Hooch got in her face and started screaming. This was about half-an hour left of the day.

Then Susan just started to cry, and Hooch dropped her. I expected her to yell some more, but instead Hooch shook.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Hooch said, and then she begun to cry to. It wasn't even funny; just morbidly depressing. And we were all silent, even Pansy, watching her cry. She ordered us out, and we didn't stick around. Except me; I asked Hooch if I could get her a glass of tea.

"Every year, I try, and they all die. But that's supposed to happen, right?" She said once I had gotten her a drink.

I didn't expect the saddest to be Hooch, but everything was surprising me nowadays.

_Sinstra: _Probably more boring things, but I was going to suffer through it. Until I saw Draco looking guilty against a wall.

"Not going. Load of rubbish," He scoffed.

"But…but…" I stuttered, wanting to find a reason to disagree.

"What are they going to do? Throw me in the Green Games?" He joked, and I scowled.

"That's not funny." I said sternly, but followed him from the door. In my mind, I told myself I was just here to reprimand him and get him back to class, but really, I had to admit it was either brave or stupid.

"Lighten up." He said with a roll of his eyes, "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to go and practice some more fighting." He said, and left me in the fork of the road. I figured he had the right idea, and found the practice room empty. I threw dagger after dagger until my hands hurt and an unsuspecting piece of wood was riddled with slashes and crevices.

This was useful to me. Star charting was not.

_Mad-Eye: _

"You skipped the last class." Mad-Eye said as soon as I walked in the door.

"Yes well." Now I felt the blood flush my face, "I didn't find it useful. I needed to work on my knife throwing anyway." I said.

"In Hogwarts, you'd be in trouble." He said, "But we're not in Hogwarts. Instincts, I'd say. You know what you think you do."

Why was everyone always so vague? It was annoying.

Instead I smiled and nodded.

_Lupin: _

He had news from the official headquarters.

Acromantulas. There would be huge spiders in the arena. Ron looked ready to give up right then.

He said that we needed to keep it hush-hush, that we weren't supposed to know, and he only knew by accident. We spent the whole class practicing spells that could be used to fend off one or a whole pack.

Watch; they'll change their mind at the last minuet and they'll just release tigers or something.

_Dinner: _

"Are the plates out?" I asked.

"Yes, Mione." Seamus groaned in exasperation.

"And the stove heated to low?" I fretted.

"Merlin, I'm the one cooking woman. It's like we're a married couple preparing for a dinner party."

"Well, one of those things is right." I replied, and tugged on my shirt. It was the absolute best of everything Seamus knew that he was all throwing together. When he read the menu to me when we ran up here, I was amazed and my mouth watered.

I didn't know who would come. I suppose I was more surprised with who would not come. Or who did? I'm just writing in circles now, it was such the night!

All the Gryffindors came, which I highly expected. Faye was by far the most withdrawn of the group, but during the night she became more open. I think wine had something to do with that.

So did all the Hufflepuffs. Back at school, they were our number one supporter outside our own house, so that was hardly unexpected either. And we were well liked by Ravenclaws, but not everyone there came.

For example, I noticed that neither Mandy nor Duke Oakley attended which was clearly their loss. I heard through the grapevine that Mandy was having a breakdown in her room, the poor thing. I was going to bring her food until her roommate- Susan- offered to bring her some when she left. And Duke? I don't honestly know him enough to decipher his motives for not joining such a wonderful meal.

And then…the Slytherins. Three out of six came, so half…not bad. Draco walked in a little brazenly, almost strutting his complete abandonment of his own housemates, and sat down next to me.

"What's for dinner, Granger?"

I'm pretty sure Ron nearly had a heart attack.

Then Daphne and Tracey came together, Tracey tugging Daphne by the arm. Daphne was the cool ice queen everyone always knew her as, and sat rigidly against her chair, but nonetheless soon calmed and even made small talk. Tracey on the other had was…animated. Stupid, but animated.

Things begun to get crazy and there was a poker game going on, people splashing in the hot-tub, trading secrets…and I figured it was high time for our own secrets. I caught eyes with Ernie, Hannah, and Elizabeth and we went into the bedroom.

"So…our goal?" Ernie finally asked.

"Stay alive?" Hannah gave a weak grin.

"I think that maybe we should do this…" Elizabeth began, and she brought up some papers with ideas she'd drawn, and we quickly began to collaborate and work through our plan. Once, I looked up and I was sure I saw a sliver of silver through the door, but I wasn't sure, so I just ignored it.

It was nearly midnight when we kicked everyone out. It seemed few noticed my group's absence and even fewer said anything about it. The only one to say something directly was Seamus.

"So you have secret groups now too?" He questioned almost angrily, and I sighed.

"It's not your concern, Seamus."

"You're right." He said almost blissfully, but through gritted teeth, "It's not."

"Trouble in paradise?" A voice asked from behind, and I noticed that Seamus and I were not alone. Draco. He picked up a shoe from the ground.

"Nearly forgot this." He said by way of explanation. I scrutinized him.

"Were you spying on my friends in my room tonight?" I asked bluntly.

"Not you in particular. Any small group talking quietly is something I'm interested in. Couldn't get close enough without being obvious." He admitted, "So don't' worry. I didn't hear anything. You don't have to kill me." His joke hit a little too close, and I pointed to the door.

"Goodnight, Draco." I said, and he was so shocked at my use of his first name, he scampered away.

I should get to sleep, really. Tomorrow is an interview with Rita Skeeter in front of a million people. But honestly, I'm just too damn afraid.

* * *

**What did you think? Lots of different things going on all at once, I know. **

**Also, a question. How do you like the two relationships between Draco/Hermione and Seamus/Hermione. I'm trying to portray them as two different loves, because as you know both will happen in this story, and I hope I'm achieving two different feels between them! **

**Anwho, read and review! **


End file.
